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« 

AUTHOR'S EDITION 


WORKS OF 
ANTHONY HOPE 

With Preface and Notes 
by the Author, and 
Photogravure Illustration 


B A L I O L 

Limited to One Thousand 
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Bemenatem wtiVfd his helmtt , crying (rod »avc 

the king! " 


Ps$C*r 349 



RUPERT OF 
H E N T Z A U 


BEING THE SEQUEL TO A STORY 
BY THE SAME WRITER ENTITLED 
••THE PRISONER OF ZENDA” 


By ANTHONY HOPE^ 


, -W 


ILLUSTRATED 



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D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
NEW YORK 






•• 










RUPERT OF HENTZAU 






CHAPTER I 
THE QUEEN'S GOOD-BYE 

A man who has lived in the world, marking how 
every act, although in itself perhaps light and 
insignificant, may become the source of conse- 
quences that spread far and wide, and flow for 
years or centuries, could scarcely feel secure in 
reckoning that with the death of the Duke of 
Strelsau and the restoration of King Rudolf to 
liberty and his throne, there would end, for good 
and all, the troubles bom of Black Michaels dar« 

m 

ing conspiracy. The stakes had been high, the 
struggle keen ; the edge of passion had been 
sharpened, and the seeds of enmity sown. Yet 
Michael, having struck for the crown, had paid 
for the blow with his life : should there not then 
be an end ? Michael was dead, the Princess her 
cousin's wife, the story in safe keeping, and Mr. 
R&ssendyll’s face seen no more in Ruritaim. 
Should there not then be an end ? So said I to 
my friend the Constable of Zenda, as we talked 

by the bedside of Marshal Strakenca. The old 

i 


I* 





RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


man, already nearing the death that soon after 
robbed us of his aid and counsel, bowed his head 
in assent : in the aged and ailing the love of 
peace breeds hope of it. But Colonel Sapt 
tugged at his grey moustache and twisted his 
black cigar in his mouth, saying : “ Vou're very 
sanguine, friend Fritz. But is Rupert of Iient- 
zau dead ? I had not heard it. 

\V ell said, and like old Sapt ! Vet the man is 
little without the opportunity, and Rupert by 
himself could hardly have troubled our repose. 
Hampered by his own guilt, he dared not set his 
foot in the kingdom from which by rare good 
luck he had escaped, but wandered to and fro 
over Europe, making a living by his wits, and, 
as some said, adding to his resources by gallant- 
ries for which he did not refuse substantial rec- 
ompense. But he kept himself constantly before 
our eyes, and never ceased to contrive how he 
might gain permission to return and enjoy the 
estates to which his uncle's death had entitled 
him. 1 he chief agent through whom he had 
the effrontery to approach the King was his rela- 
tive, the Count of I.uzau-Rischenheim, a young 
man of high rank and great wealth who was de- 
voted to Rupert. The Count fulfilled his mis- 
sion well : acknow ledging Rupert's heavy of- 
fences, he put forward on his behalf the pleas of 

youth and of the predominant influence which 

3 


THE QUEENS GOOD-BYE 


Duke Michael had exercised over his adherent, 
and promised, in words so significant as to betray 
Rupert’s own dictation, a future fidelity no less 
discreet than hearty. “ Give me my price and 
I’ll hold my tongue,” seemed to come in Rupert’s 
off-hand accents through his cousin’s deferential 
lips. As may be supposed, however, the King 
and those who advised him in the matter, know- 
ing too well the manner of man the Count of 
Hentzau was, were not inclined to give ear to 
his ambassador’s prayer. We kept firm hold on 
Master Rupert’s revenues, and as good a watch 
as we could on his movements ; for we were most 
firmly determined that he should never return to 
Ruritania. Perhaps we might have obtained his 
extradition and hanged him on the score of his 
crimes ; but in these days every rogue who de- 
serves no better than to be strung up to the 
nearest tree must have what they call a fair trial, 
and we feared that, if Rupert were handed over 
to our police and arraigned before the courts at 
Strelsau, the secret which we guarded so sedu- 
lously would become the gossip of all the city, 
aye, and of all Europe. So Rupert went un- 
punished except by banishment and the im- 
pounding of his rents. 

Yet Sapt was in the right about him. Help- 
less as he seemed, he did not for an instant aban- 
don the contest. He lived in the faith that his 

3 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


chance would come, and from day to day was 
ready for its coming. He schemed against us as 
we schemed to protect ourselves from him ; if 
we watched him, he kept his eye on us. His 
ascendancy over Luzau-Rischenheim grew mark- 
edly greater after a visit which his cousin paid to 
him in Paris. From this time the young Count 
began to supply him with resources. Thus 
armed, he gathered instruments round him, and 
organised a system of espionage that carried to 
his ears all our actions and the whole position of 
affairs at Court. He knew, far more accurately 
than any one else outside the royal circle, the 
measures taken for the government of the king- 
dom and the considerations that dictated the 
royal policy. More than this, he possessed him- 
self of every detail concerning the King’s health, 
although the utmost reticence was observed on 
this subject. Had his discoveries stopped here, 
they would have been vexatious and disquieting, 
but perhaps of little serious harm. They went 
further. Set on the track by his acquaintance 
with what had passed during Mr. Rassendyll’s 
tenure of the throne, he penetrated the secret 
which had been kept successfully from the King 
himself. In the knowledge of it he found the 
opportunity for which he had waited ; in its bold 
use he discerned his chance. I cannot say 
whether he was influenced more strongly by his 


THE QUEEN S GOOD-BYE 


desire to re-establish his position in the kingdom, 
or by the grudge he bore against Mr. Rassendyll. 
He loved power and money ; dearly he loved 
revenge also. No doubt the motives worked 
together, and he was rejoiced to find that the 
weapon put into his hand had a double edge ; 
with one he hoped to cut his own path clear, 
with the other to wound the man he hated 
through the woman whom that man loved. In 
fine, the Count of Hentzau, shrewdly discerning 
the feeling that existed between the Queen and 
Rudolf Rassendyll, set his spies to work, and was 
rewarded by discovering the object of my yearly 
meetings with Mr. Rassendyll. At least he con- 
jectured the nature of my errand : this was 
enough for him. Head and hand were soon 
busy in turning the knowledge to account ; scru- 
ples of the heart never stood in Rupert’s way. 

The marriage, which had set all Ruritania on 
fire with joy and formed in the people’s eyes the 
visible triumph over Black Michael and his fel- 
low-conspirators, was now three years old. For 
three years the Princess Flavia had been Queen. 
I am come by now to the age when a man should 
look out on life with an eye undimmed by the 
mists of passion. My love-making days are over ; 
yet there is nothing for which I am more thank- 
ful to Almighty God than the gift of my wife’s 

love. In storm it has been my anchor, and in 

5 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


clear skies my star. But we common folk are 
free to follow our hearts ; am I an old fool for 
saying that he is a fool who follows anything 
else ? Our liberty is not for princes. We need 
wait for no future world to balance the luck of 
men ; even here there is an equipoise. From the 
highly placed a price is exacted for their state, 
their wealth, and their honours, as heavy as these 
are great ; to the poor what is to us mean and of 
no sweetness may appear decked in the robes of 
pleasure and delight. Well, if it were not so, 
who could sleep at nights ? The burden laid on 
Queen Fla via I knew and know, so well as a man 
can know it. I think it needs a woman to know 
it fully ; for even now my wife’s eyes fill with 
tears when we speak of it. Yet she bore it, and 
if she failed in anything, I wonder that it was in 
so little. For it was not only that she had never 
loved the King and had loved another with all 
her heart. The King’s health, shattered by the 
horror and rigours of his imprisonment in the 
Castle of Zenda, soon broke utterly. He lived 
indeed ; nay, he shot and hunted, and kept in his 
hand some measure, at least, of government. But 
always from the day of his release he was a fret- 
ful invalid, different utterly from the gay and 
jovial prince whom Michael’s villains had caught 
in the hunting-lodge. There was worse than 
this. As time went on, the first impulse of grati- 


THE QUEENS GOOD-BYE 

tude and admiration that he had felt towards Mr. 
Rassendyll died away. He came to brood more 
and more on what had passed while he was a 
prisoner ; he was possessed not only by a haunt- 
ing dread of Rupert of Hentzau, at whose hands 
he had suffered so greatly, but also by a morbid 
half-mad jealousy of Mr. Rassendyll. Rudolf 
had played the hero while he lay helpless. Ru- 
dolf’s were the exploits for which his own people 
cheered him in his own capital. Rudolf’s were 
the laurels that crowned his impatient brow. He 
had enough nobility to resent his borrowed credit, 
without the fortitude to endure it manfully. And 
the hateful comparison struck him nearer home. 
Sapt would tell him bluntly that Rudolf did this 
or that, set this precedent or that, laid down this 
or the other policy, and that the King could do 
no better than follow in Rudolf’s steps. Mr. 
Rassendyll’s name seldom left his wife’s lips, but 
when she spoke of him it was as one speaks of a 
great man who is dead, belittling all the living by 
the shadow of his name. I do not believe that 
the King discerned that truth which his wife 
spent her days in hiding from him ; yet he was 
uneasy if Rudolf’s name were mentioned by Sapt 
or myself, and from the Queen’s mouth he could 
not bear it. I have seen him fall into fits of 

4 

passion on the mere sound of it ; for he lost con- 
trol of himself on what seemed slight provocation. 

7 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


Moved by this disquieting jealousy, he sought 
continually to exact from the Queen proofs of 
love and care beyond what most husbands can 
boast of, or in my humble judgment make good 
their right to, always asking of her what in his 
heart he feared was not hers to give. Much she 
did in pity and in duty ; but in some moments, 
being but human and herself a woman of high 
temper, she failed ; then the slight rebuff or in- 
voluntary coldness was magnified by a sick man’s 
fancy into great offence or studied insult, and 
nothing that she could do would atone for it. 
Thus they, who had never in truth come together, 
drifted yet further apart ; he was alone in his 
sickness and suspicion, she in her sorrows and her 
memories. There was no child to bridge the 
gulf between them, and although she was his 
queen and his wife, she grew almost a stranger to 
him. So he seemed to will that it should be. 

Thus, worse than widowed, she lived for three 
years ; and once only in each year she sent three 
words to the man she loved, and received from 
him three words in answer. Then her strength 
failed her. A pitiful scene had occurred in which 
the King peevishly upbraided her in regard to 
some trivial matter — the occasion escapes my 
memory — speaking to her before others words 
that even alone she could not have listened to 

with dignity. I was there, and Sapt ; the Colo- 

8 


THE QUEENS GOOD-BYE 


nel’s small eyes had gleamed in anger. “ I should 
like to shut his mouth for him,” I heard him 
mutter, for the King’s waywardness had well- 
nigh worn out even his devotion. 

The thing, of which I will say no more, hap- 
pened a day or two before I was to set out to 
meet Mr. Rassendyll. I was to seek him this 
time at Wintenberg, for I had been recognised 
the year before, at Dresden, and Wintenberg, 
being a smaller place and less in the way of 
chance visitors, was deemed safer. I remember 
well how she was when she called me into her 
own room a few hours after she had left the 
King. She stood by the table ; the box was on 
it, and I knew well that the red rose and the 
message were within. But there was more 
to-day. Without preface she broke into the 
subject of my errand. 

“ I must write to him,” she said. “ I can’t bear 
it, I must write. My dear friend Fritz, you will 
carry it safely for me, won’t you ? And he must 
write to me. And you’ll bring that safely, won’t 
you? Ah, Fritz, I know I’m wrong, but I’m 
starved, starved, starved ! And it’s for the last 
time. For I know now that if I send anything, 
I must send more. So after this time I will not 
send at all. But I must say good-bye to him, I 
must have his good-bye to carry me through my 
life. This once, then, Fritz, do it for me.” 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


The tears rolled down her cheeks, which 
to-day were flushed out of their paleness to a 
stormy red ; her eyes defied me even while they 
pleaded. I bent my head and kissed her hand. 

“ With God’s help I’ll carry it safely and bring 
his safely, my Queen,” said I. 

“And tell me how he looks. Look at him 
closely, Fritz. See if he is well and seems 
strong. Oh, and make him merry and happy ! 
Bring that smile to his lips, Fritz, and the merry 
twinkle to his eyes. When you speak of me, 
see if he — if he looks as if he still loved me.” 
But then she broke off, crying : “ But don’t tell 
him I said that ! He’d be grieved if 1 doubted 
his love. I don’t doubt it — I don’t indeed ; but 
still tell me how he looks when you speak of me, 
won’t you, Fritz ? See, here’s the letter.” 

Taking it from her bosom, she kissed it before 
she gave it to me. Then she added a thousand 
cautions — how I was to carry her letter, how I 
was to go and how return, and how I was to run 
no danger, because my wife Helga loved me as 
well as she would have loved her husband had 
Heaven been kinder. 

“ At least, almost as I should, Fritz,” she said, 
now between smiles and tears. She would not 
believe that any woman could love as she loved. 

I left the Queen and went to prepare for my 

journey. I used to take only one servant with 

10 


THE QUEENS GOOD-BYE 


me, and I had chosen a different man each year. 
None of them had known that I met Mr. Ras- 
sendyll, but supposed that I was engaged on the 
private business which I made my pretext for 
obtaining leave of absence from the King. This 
time I had determined to take with me a Swiss 
youth, who had entered my service only a few 
weeks before. His name was Bauer ; he seemed 
a stolid, somewhat stupid fellow, but as honest 
as the day and very obliging. He had come to 
me well recommended, and I had not hesitated 
to engage him. I chose him for my companion 
now, chiefly because he was a foreigner, and 
therefore less likely to gossip with the other 
servants when we returned. I do not pretend to 
much cleverness, but I confess that it vexes me 
to remember how that stout guileless-looking 
youth made a fool of me. For Rupert knew 
that I had met Mr. Rassendyll the year before 
at Dresden ; Rupert was keeping a watchful eye 
on all that passed in Strelsau ; Rupert had pro- 
cured the fellow his fine testimonials and sent 
him to me, in the hope that he would chance on 
something of advantage to his employer. My 
resolve to take him to Wintenberg may have 
been hoped for, but could scarcely have been 
counted on ; it was the added luck that waits so 
often on the plans of a clever schemer. 

Going to take leave of the King, I found him 

11 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


huddled over the fire. The day was not cold, 
but the damp chill of his dungeon seemed to 
have penetrated to the very core of his bones. 
He was annoyed at my going, and questioned 
me peevishly about the business that occa- 
sioned my journey. I parried his curiosity as 
I best could, but did not succeed in appeasing 
his ill-humour. Half-ashamed of his recent out- 
burst, half-anxious to justify it to himself, he 
cried fretfully : 

“ Business ! Yes, any business is a good enough 
excuse for leaving me ! By heaven, I wonder if a 
king was ever served so badly as I am ! Why did 
you trouble to get me out of Zenda? Nobody 
wants me, nobody cares whether I live or die.” 

To reason with such a mood was impossible. 
I could only assure him that I would hasten my 
return by all possible means. 

“ Yes, pray do,” said he. “ I want somebody 
to look after me. Who knows what that villain 
Rupert may attempt against me ? And I can’t 
defend myself, can I ? I’m not Rudolf Rassen- 
dyll, am I ? ” 

Thus, with a mixture of plaintiveness and 
malice, he scolded me. At last I stood silent, 
waiting till he should be pleased to dismiss me. 
At any rate I was thankful that he entertained 
no suspicion as to my errand. Had I spoken a 

word of Mr. Rassendyll he would not have let 

12 


THE QUEEN S GOOD-BYE 


me go. He had fallen foul of me before on 
learning that I was in communication with 
Rudolf ; so completely had jealousy destroyed 
gratitude in his breast. If he had known what 
I carried, I do not think that he could have 
hated his preserver more. Very likely some 
such feeling was natural enough ; it was none 
the less painful to perceive. 

On leaving the King’s presence I sought out 
the Constable of Zenda. He knew my errand ; 
and, sitting down beside him, I told him of the 
letter I carried, and arranged how to apprise him 
of my fortune surely and quickly. He was not 
in a good humour that day : the King had ruf- 
fled him also, and Colonel Sapt had no great re- 
serve of patience. 

“If we haven’t cut one another’s throats before 
then, we shall all be at Zenda by the time you 
arrive at Wintenberg,” he said. “ The Court 
moves there to-morrow, and I shall be there as 
long as the King is.” 

He paused, and then added : “ Destroy the 
letter if there’s any danger.” 

I nodded my head. 

“And destroy yourself with it, if that’s the 
only way,” he went on with a surly smile. 
“ Heaven knows why she must send such a silly 
message at all, but since she must she’d better 

have sent me with it.” 

2 


13 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


I knew that Sapt was in the way of jeering 
at all sentiment, and I took no notice of the 
terms that he applied to the Queen’s farewell. 
I contented myself with answering the last part 
of what he said. 

“No, it’s better you should be here,” I urged. 
“ For if I should lose the letter — though there’s 
little chance of it — you could prevent it coming 
to the King.” 

“ I could try,” he grinned. “ But on my life, 
to run the chance for a letter’s sake ! A letter’s 
a poor thing to risk the peace of a kingdom for.” 

“Unhappily,” said I, “it’s the only thing that 
a messenger can well carry.” 

“ Off with you, then,” grumbled the Colonel. 
“ Tell Rassendyll from me that he did well. 
But tell him to do something more. Let ’em 
say good-bye and have done with it. Good 
God, is he going to waste all his life thinking of 
a woman he never sees ? ” Sapt’s air was full of 
indignation. 

“ What more is he to do ? ” I asked. “ Isn’t 
his work here done ? ” 

“Aye, it’s done. Perhaps it’s done,” he an- 
swered. “ At least he has given us back our 
good King ! ” 

To lay on the King the full blame for what he 
was would have been rank injustice. Sapt was 
not guilty of it, but his disappointment was bit- 

14 


THE QUEENS GOOD-BYE 


ter that all our efforts had secured no better 
ruler for Ruritania. Sapt could serve, but he 
liked his master to be a man. 

“ Aye, I’m afraid the lad’s work here is done,” 
he said, as I shook him by the hand. Then a 
sudden light came in his eyes. “Perhaps not,” 
he muttered. “ Who knows ? ” 

A man need not, I hope, be deemed uxorious 
for liking a quiet dinner alone with his wife be- 
fore he starts on a long journey. Such, at least, 
was my fancy ; and I was annoyed to find that 
Helga’s cousin, Anton von Strofzin, had invited 

himself to share our meal and our farewell. He 

• 

conversed with his usual airy emptiness on all 
the topics that were supplying Strelsau with gos- 
sip. There were rumours that the King was ill, 
that the Queen was angry at being carried off 
to Zenda, that the Archbishop meant to preach 
against low dresses, that the Chancellor was to 
be dismissed, that his daughter was to be mar- 
ried, and so forth. I heard without listening. 
But the last bit of his budget caught my wander- 
ing attention. 

“ They were betting at the club,” said Anton, 
“that Rupert of Hentzau would be recalled. 
Have you heard anything about it, Fritz ? ” 

If I had known anything, it is needless to say 
that I should not have confided it to Anton. 

But the suggested step was so utterly at variance 

15 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


with the King’s intentions that I made no diffi- 
culty about contradicting the report with an au- 
thoritative air. Anton heard me with a judicial 
wrinkle on his smooth brow. 

“ That’s all very well,” said he, “ and I daresay 
you’re bound to say so. All I know is that 
Rischenheim dropped a hint to Colonel Markel 
a day or two ago.” 

“ Rischenheim believes what he hopes,” said I. 

“ And where’s he gone ? ” cried Anton exult- 
antly. “ Why has he suddenly left Strelsau ? I 
tell you he’s gone to meet Rupert, and I’ll bet 
you what you like he carries some proposal. 
Ah, you don’t know everything, Fritz, my boy ! ” 

It was indeed true that I did not know every- 
thing. I made haste to admit as much. 

“ I didn’t even know that the Count was 
gone, much less why he’s gone,” said I. 

“ You see ! ” exclaimed Anton. And he added 
patronisingly : “You should keep your ears 
open, my boy ; then you might be worth what 
the King pays you.” 

“No less, I trust,” said I, “for he pays me 
nothing.” Indeed at this time I held no office 
save the honorary position of Chamberlain to 
Her Majesty. Any advice the King needed 
from me was asked and given unofficially. 

Anton went off, persuaded that he had scored 

a point against me. I could not see where. It 

16 


THE QUEENS GOOD-BYE 


was possible that the Count of Luzau-Rischen- 
heim had gone to meet his cousin, equally possi- 
ble that no such business claimed his care. At 
any rate, the matter was not for me. I had a 
more pressing affair in hand. Dismissing the 
whole thing from my mind, I bade the butler 
tell Bauer to go forward with my luggage and 
to let my carriage be at the door in good time. 
Helga had busied herself, since our guest’s de- 
parture, in preparing small comforts for my 
journey ; now she came to me to say good-bye. 
Although she tried to hide all signs of it, I de- 
tected an uneasiness in her manner. She did not 
like these errands of mine, imagining dangers 
and risks of which I saw no likelihood. I would 
not give in to her mood, and, as I kissed her, I 
bade her expect me back in a few days’ time. 
Not even to her did I speak of the new and more 
dangerous burden that I carried, although I was 
aware that she enjoyed a full measure of the 
Queen’s confidence. 

“ My love to King Rudolf, the real King 
Rudolf,” said she. “ Though you carry what 
will make him think little of my love.’’ 

“ I have no desire he should think too much of 
it, sweet,” said I. 

She caught me by the hands, and looked up in 
my face. 

“ What a friend you are, aren’t you, Fritz ? ” 

17 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


said she. “You worship Mr. Rassendyll. I 
know you think I should worship him too if 
he asked me. Well, I shouldn’t. I am foolish 
enough to have my own idol.” 

All my modesty did not let me doubt who her 
idol might be. Suddenly she drew near to me 
and whispered in my ear. I think that our own 
happiness brought to her a sudden keen sympathy 
with her mistress. 

“ Make him send her a loving message, Fritz,” 
she whispered, “ something that will comfort her. 
Her idol can’t be with her as mine is with me.” 

“Yes, he’ll send something to comfort her,” I 
answered. “ And God keep you, my dear.” 

For he would surely send an answer to the 
letter that I carried, and that answer I was sworn 
to bring safely to her. So I set out in good 
heart, bearing in the pocket of my coat the little 
box and the Queen’s good-bye. And, as Colonel 
Sapt said to me, both I would destroy, if need 
were — aye, and myself with them. A man did 
not serve Queen Flavia with divided mind. 


18 


CHAPTER II 


A STATION WITHOUT A CAB 

The arrangements for my meeting with Mr. 
Rassendyll had been carefully made by cor- 
respondence before he left England. He was to 
be at the Golden Lion Hotel at eleven o’clock on 
the night of the 15th of October. I reckoned to 
arrive in the town between eight and nine on the 
same evening, to proceed to another hotel, and, 
on pretence of taking a stroll, slip out and call 
on him at the appointed hour. I should then 
fulfil my commission, take his answer, and enjoy 
the rare pleasure of a long talk with him. Early 
the next morning he would have left Winten- 
berg, and I should be on my way back to Strelsau. 
I knew that he would not fail to keep his ap- 
pointment, and I was perfectly confident of being 
able to carry out the programme punctually ; I 
had, however, taken the precaution of obtaining a 
week’s leave of absence, in case any unforeseen 
accident should delay my return. Conscious of 
having done all I could to guard against mis- 
understanding or mishap, I got into the train in 
a tolerably peaceful frame of mind. The box 

was in my inner pocket, the letter in a porte- 

19 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


monnaie. I could feel them both with my hand. 
I was not in uniform, but I took my revolver. 
Although I had no reason to anticipate any dif- 
ficulties, I did not forget that what I carried must 
be protected at all hazards and all costs. 

The weary night journey wore itself away. 
Bauer came to me in the morning, performed 
his small services, re-packed my handbag, pro- 
cured me some coffee, and left me. It was then 
about eight o’clock ; we had arrived at a station 
of some importance and were not to stop again 
until mid-day. I saw Bauer enter the second- 
class compartment in which he was travelling, 
and settled down in my own coupe. I think it 
was at this moment that the thought of Rischen- 
heim came again into my head, and I found my- 
self wondering why he clung to the hopeless idea 
of compassing Rupert’s return, and what busi- 
ness had taken him from Strelsau. But I made 
little of the matter, and, drowsy from a broken 
night’s rest, soon fell into a doze. I was alone 
in the carriage and could sleep without fear or 
danger. I was awakened by our noontide halt. 
Here I saw Bauer again. After taking a basin 
of soup I went to the telegraph- bureau to send 
a message to my wife : the receipt of it would 
not merely set her mind at ease, but would also 
ensure word of my safe progress reaching the 

Queen. As I entered the bureau I met Bauer 

20 


A STATION WITHOUT A CAB 


coming out of it. He seemed rather startled at 
our encounter, but told me readily enough that 
he had been telegraphing for rooms at Win ten- 
berg, a very needless precaution, since there was 
no danger of the hotel being full. In fact I was 
annoyed, as I especially wished to avoid calling 
attention to my arrival. However the mischief 
was done, and to rebuke my servant might have 
aggravated it by setting his wits at work to find 
out my motive for secrecy. So I said nothing, 
but passed by him with a nod. When the whole 
circumstances came to light, I had reason to sup- 
pose that, besides his message to the innkeeper, 
Bauer sent one of a character and to a quarter 
unsuspected by me. 

We stopped once again before reaching Win- 
tenberg. I put my head out of the window to 
look about me and saw Bauer standing near the 
luggage-van. He ran to me eagerly, asking 
whether I required anything. I told him 44 noth- 
ing,” but instead of going away he began to talk 
to me. Growing weary of him, I returned to 
my seat and waited impatiently for the train to 
go on. There was a further delay of five min- 
utes, and then we started. 

44 Thank goodness ! ” I exclaimed, leaning 
back comfortably in my seat and taking a cigar 
from my case. 

But in a moment the cigar rolled unheeded on 

21 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


to the floor, as I sprang eagerly to my feet and 
darted to the window. For, just as we were 
clearing the station, I saw being carried past the 
carriage on the shoulders of a porter a bag which 
looked very much like mine. Bauer had been in 
charge of my bag, and it had been put in the 
van under his directions. It seemed unlikely 
that it should be taken out now by any mistake. 
Yet the bag I saw was very like the bag I 
owned. But I was not sure, and could have 
done nothing had I been sure. W e were not to 
stop again before Wintenberg, and, with my 
luggage or without it, I myself must be in the 
town that evening. 

We arrived punctual to our appointed time. 
I sat in the carriage a moment or two, expecting 
Bauer to open the door and relieve me of my 
small baggage. He did not come, so I got out. 
It seemed that I had few fellow-passengers, and 
these were quickly disappearing on foot or in the 
carriages and carts that waited outside the sta- 
tion. I stood looking for my servant and my 
luggage. The evening was mild ; I was encum- 
bered with my handbag and a heavy fur coat. 
There were no signs either of Bauer or of bag- 
gage. I stayed where I was for five or six 
minutes. The guard of the train had disap- 
peared, but presently I observed the station- 

master : he seemed to be taking a last glance 

22 


A STATION WITHOUT A CAB 


round the premises. Going up to him, I asked 
whether he had seen my servant ; he could give 
me no news of him. I had no luggage-ticket, 
for mine had been in Bauer’s hands, but I pre- 
vailed on him to allow me to look at the baggage 
which had arrived : my property was not among 
it. The station-master was inclined, I think, to 
be a little sceptical as to the existence both of 
bag and of servant. His only suggestion was 
that the man must have been left behind acci- 
dentally. I pointed out that in this case he 
would not have had the bag with him, but that 
it would have come on in the train. The 
station-master admitted the force of my argu- 
ment ; he shrugged his shoulders and spread his 
hands out ; he was evidently at the end of his 
resources. 

Now, for the first time and with sudden force, 
a doubt of Bauer’s fidelity thrust itself into my 
mind. I remembered how little I knew of the 
fellow, and how great my charge was. Three 
rapid movements of my hand assured me that 
letter, box, and revolver were in their respective 
places. If Bauer had gone hunting in the bag, 
he had drawn a blank. The station-master 
noticed nothing ; he was staring at the dim gas 
lamp that hung from the roof. I turned to 
him. 

“ Well, tell him when he comes ” I began. 

23 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ He won’t come to-night now,” interrupted 
the station-master, none too politely. “No 
other train arrives to-night.” 

“ Tell him when he does come to follow me to 
the Wintenbergerhof. I’m going there immedi- 
ately.” For time was short, and I did not wish 
to keep Mr. Rassendyll waiting. Besides, in my 
new-born nervousness, I was anxious to accom- 
plish my errand as soon as might be. What had 
become of Bauer? The thought returned, and 
now with it another, that seemed to connect 
itself in some subtle way with my present posi- 
tion : why and whither had the Count of Luzau- 
Rischenheim set out from Strelsau a day before 
I started on my journey to Wintenberg ? 

“ If he comes I’ll tell him,” said the station- 
master, and as he spoke he looked round the 
yard. 

There was not a cab to be seen ! I knew that 
the station lay on the extreme outskirts of the 
town, for I had passed through Wintenberg on 
my wedding journey nearly three years before. 
The trouble involved in walking, and the further 
waste of time, put the cap on my irritation. 

“ Why don’t you have enough cabs ? ” I asked 
angrily. 

“ There are plenty generally, sir,” he answered 
more civilly, with an apologetic air. “ There 

would be to-night, but for an accident.” 

24 


A STATION WITHOUT A CAB 


Another accident ! This expedition of mine 
seemed doomed to be the sport of chance. 

“ Just before your train arrived,” he continued, 
“ a local came in. As a rule hardly anybody 
comes by it, but to-night a number of men — oh, 
twenty or five-and-twenty, I should think — got 
out. I collected their tickets myself, and they 
all came from the first station on the line. Well, 
that’s not so strange, for there’s a good beer- 
garden there. But, curiously enough, every one 
of them hired a separate cab and drove off, 
laughing and shouting to one another as they 
went. That’s how it happens that there were 
only one or two cabs left when your train came 
in, and they were snapped up at once.” 

Taken alone, this occurrence was nothing ; but 
I asked myself whether the conspiracy that had 
robbed me of my servant had deprived me of a 
vehicle also. 

“ What sort of men were they ? ” I asked. 

“ All sorts of men, sir,” answered the station- 
master, “ but most of them were shabby-looking 
fellows. I wondered where some of them had 
got the money for their ride.” 

The vague feeling of uneasiness which had 
already attacked me grew stronger. Although 
I fought against it, calling myself an old woman 
and a coward, I must confess to an impulse 

which almost made me beg the station-mas- 

25 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


ter’s company on my walk ; but, besides being 
ashamed to exhibit a timidity apparently ground- 
less, I was reluctant to draw attention to myself 
in any way. I would not for the world have it 
supposed that I carried anything of value. 

“ Well, there’s no help for it,” said I ; and, 
buttoning my heavy coat about me, I took my 
handbag and stick in one hand, and asked my 
way to the hotel. My misfortunes had broken 
down the station-master’s indifference, and he 
directed me in a sympathetic tone. 

“ Straight along the road, sir,” said he, “ be- 
tween the poplars for hard on half a mile; then 
the houses begin, and your hotel is in the first 
square you come to on the right.” 

I thanked him curtly (for I had not quite for- 
given his earlier incivility) and started on my 
walk, weighed down by my big coat and the 
handbag. When I left the lighted station yard 
I realised that the evening had fallen very dark, 
and the shade of the tall lank trees intensified 
the gloom. I could hardly see my way, and 
went timidly, with frequent stumbles over the 
uneven stones of the road. The lamps were 
dim, few, and widely separated ; so far as com- 
pany was concerned, I might have been a thou- 
sand miles from an inhabited house. In spite of 
myself the thought of danger persistently as- 
sailed my mind. I began to review every cir- 

26 


A STATION WITHOUT A CAB 


cumstance of my journey, twisting the trivial 
into some ominous shape, magnifying the signifi- 
cance of everything which might justly seem 
suspicious, studying in the light of my new ap- 
prehensions every expression of Bauer’s face and 
every word that had fallen from his lips. I could 
not persuade myself into security. I carried the 
Queen’s letter, and — well, I would have given 
much to have old Sapt or Rudolf Rassendyll by 
my side. 

Now when a man suspects danger, let him not 
spend his time in asking whether there be really 
danger, or in upbraiding himself for timidity, 
but let him face his cowardice and act as though 
the danger were real. If I had followed that 
rule, and kept my eyes about me, scanning the 
sides of the road and the ground in front of my 
feet, instead of losing myself in a maze of reflec- 
tion, I might have had time to avoid the trap, 
or at least to get my hand to my revolver and 
make a fight for it, or indeed, in the last resort, 
to destroy what I carried before harm came to 
it. But my mind was pre-occupied, and the 
whole thing seemed to happen in a minute. At 
the very moment that I had declared to myself 
the vanity of my fears and determined to be res- 
olute in banishing them, I heard voices — a low 
strained whispering ; I saw two or three figures 

in the shadow of the poplars by the wayside. An 

27 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


instant later, a dart was made at me. While I 
could fly I would not fight ; with a sudden for- 
ward plunge I eluded the men who rushed at me, 
and started at a run towards the lights of the 
town and the shapes of the houses, now distant 
about a quarter of a mile. Perhaps I ran twenty 
yards, perhaps fifty ; I do not know. I heard 
the steps behind me, quick as my own. Then I 
fell headlong on the road — tripped up ! I un- 
derstood. They had stretched a rope across my 
path ; as I fell a man bounded up from either 
side, and I found the rope slack under my body. 
There I lay on my face ; a man knelt on me, 
others held either hand ; my face was pressed 
into the mud of the road, and I was like to be 
stifled ; my handbag had whizzed away from me. 
Then a voice said : 

“ Turn him over.” 

I knew the voice ; it was a confirmation of the 
fears which I had lately been at such pains to 
banish. It justified the forecast of Anton von 
Strofzin, and explained the hint of the Count of 
Luzau-Rischenheim. For it was Rischenheim’s 
voice. 

They caught hold of me and began to turn me 
on my back. Here I saw a chance, and with a 
great heave of my body I flung them from me. 
For a short instant I was free ; my impetuous at- 
tack seemed to have startled the enemy ; I gath- 

28 


A STATION WITHOUT A CAB 


ered myself up on my knees. But my advantage 
was not to last long. Another man, whom I 
had not seen, sprang suddenly on me, like a bullet 
from a catapult. His fierce onset overthrew me, 
I was stretched on the ground again, on my back 
now, and my throat was clutched viciously in 
strong fingers. At the same moment my arms 
were again seized and pinned. The face of the 
man on my chest bent down towards mine ; and 
through the darkness I discerned the features of 
Rupert of Hentzau. He was panting from his 
sudden exertion and the intense force with which 
he held me, but he was smiling also, and when 
he saw by my eyes that I knew him, he laughed 
softly in triumph. 

Then came Rischenheim’s voice again. 

“ Where’s the bag he carried ? It may be in 
the bag.” 

“ You fool, he’ll have it about him,” said Ru- 
pert scornfully. “ Hold him fast while I search.” 

On either side my hands were still pinned fast. 
Rupert’s left hand did not leave my throat, but 
his free right hand began to dart about me, feel- 
ing, probing, and rummaging. I lay quite help- 
less and in the bitterness of great consternation. 
Rupert found my revolver, drew it out with a 
gibe, and handed it to Rischenheim, who was now 
standing beside him. Then he felt the box, he 

drew it out, his eyes sparkled. He set his knee 

3 29 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


hard on my chest, so that I could scarcely breathe ; 
then he ventured to loose my throat, and tore 
the box open eagerly. 

“ Bring a light here,” he cried. Another ruf- 
fian came with a dark lantern, whose glow he 
turned on the box. Rupert opened it, and when 
he saw what was inside he laughed again, and 
stowed it away in his pocket. 

“ Quick, quick ! ” urged Rischenheim. “We’ve 
got what we wanted, and somebody may come 
at any moment.” 

A brief hope comforted me. The loss of the 
box was a calamity, but I would pardon fortune 
if only the letter escaped capture. Rupert might 
have suspected that I carried some such token as 
the box held, but he could not know of the letter. 
Would he listen to Rischenheim ? No. The 
Count of Hentzau did things thoroughly. 

“We may as well overhaul him a bit more,” 
said he, and resumed his search. My hope 
vanished, for now he was bound to come upon 
the letter. 

Another instant brought him to it. He 
snatched the porte-monnaie, and, motioning im- 
patiently to the man to hold the lantern nearer, 
began to examine the contents. I remember 
well the look of his face as the fierce white light 
threw it up against the darkness in its clear pallor 

and high-bred comeliness, with its curling lips 

30 


A STATION WITHOUT A CAB 


and scornful eyes. He had the letter now ; and 
a gleam of joy danced in his eyes as he tore it 
open. A hasty glance showed him what his 
prize was ; then coolly and deliberately he settled 
himself to read, regarding neither Rischenheim’s 
nervous hurry nor my desperate angry glance that 
glared up at him. He read leisurely, as though 
he had been in an armchair in his own house ; 
the lips smiled and curled as he read the last 
words that the Queen had written to her lover. 
He had indeed come on more than he thought. 

Rischenheim laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“ Quick, Rupert, quick ! ” he urged again, in a 
voice full of agitation. 

“ Let me alone, man. I haven’t read any- 
thing so amusing for a long while,” answered 
Rupert. Then he burst into a laugh, crying, 
“ Look, look ! ” and pointing to the foot of the 
last page of the letter. I was mad with anger ; 
my fury gave me new strength. In his enjoy- 
ment of what he read Rupert had grown care- 
less ; his knee pressed more lightly on me, and as 
he showed Rischenheim the passage in the letter 
that caused him so much amusement, he turned 
his head away for an instant. My chance had 
come. With a sudden movement I displaced 
him, and with a desperate wrench I freed my 
right hand. Darting it out, I snatched at the 

letter. Rupert, alarmed for his treasure, sprang 

31 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


back and off me. I also sprang up on my feet, 
hurling away the fellow who had gripped my 
other hand. For a moment I stood facing Ru- 
pert ; then I darted on him. He was too quick 
for me : he dodged behind the man with the 
lantern and hurled the fellow forward against 
me. The lantern fell on the ground. 

“ Give me your stick,” I heard Rupert say. 
“ Where is it ? That’s right ! ” 

Then came Rischenheim’s voice again, implor- 
ing and timid : 

“ Rupert, you promised not to kill him ! ” 

The only answer was a short fierce laugh. 1 
hurled away the man who had been thrust into 
my arms, and sprang forward. I saw Rupert of 
Hentzau : his hand was raised above his head 
and held a stout club. I hardly know what fol- 
lowed : there came — all in a confused blur of 
instant sequence — an oath from Rupert, a rush 
from me, a scuffle as though someone sought to 
hold him back ; then he was on me ; I felt a 
great thud on my forehead, and I felt nothing 
more. Again I was on my back, with a terrible 
pain in my head and a dull dreamy conscious- 
ness of a knot of men standing over me, talking 
eagerly to one another. 

I could not hear what they were saying ; I had 
no great desire to hear. I fancied, somehow, 

that they were talking about me ; they looked at 

32 


A STATION WITHOUT A CAB 


me and moved their hands towards me now and 
again. I heard Rupert’s laugh, and saw his club 
poised over me ; then Rischenheim caught him 
by the “wrist. I know now that Rischenheim was 
reminding his cousin that he had promised not to 
kill me, that Rupert’s oath did not weigh a straw 
in the scales, but that he was held back only by 
a doubt whether I alive or my dead body would 
be the more inconvenient to dispose of. Yet 
then I did not understand, but lay there listless. 
And presently the talking forms seemed to cease 
their talking; they grew blurred and dim, run- 
ning into one another, and all mingling together 
to form one great shapeless creature that seemed 
to murmur and gibber over me, some such mon- 
ster as a man sees in his dreams. I hated to see 
it, and closed my eyes ; its murmurings and gib- 
berings haunted my ears for awhile, making me 
restless and unhappy ; then they died away. 
Their going made me happy ; I sighed in con- 
tentment ; and everything became as though it 
were not. 

Yet I had one more vision, breaking suddenly 
across my unconsciousness. A bold rich voice 
rang out, “ By God, I will ! ” 44 No, no ! ” cried 

another. Then 44 What’s that ? ” There was a 
rush of feet, the cries of men who met in anger 
or excitement, the crack of a shot and of another 

quickly following, oaths and scuffling. Then 

33 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


came the sound of feet flying. I could not 
make it out ; I grew weary with the puzzle of it. 
Would they not be quiet? Quiet was what I 
wanted. At last they grew quiet ; I closed my 
eyes again. The pain was less now ; they were 
quiet ; I could sleep. 

When a man looks back on the past, review- 
ing in his mind the chances Fortune has given 
and the calls she has made, he always torments 
himself by thinking that he could have done 
other and better than in fact he did. Even now 
I he awake at night sometimes, making clever 
plans by which I could have thwarted Rupert’s 
schemes. In these musings I am very acute ; 
Anton von Strofzin’s idle talk furnishes me with 
many a clew, and I draw inferences sure and 
swift as a detective in the story-books. Bauer is 
my tool, I am not his. I lay Rischenheim by 
the heels, send Rupert off howling with a ball 
in his arm, and carry my precious burden in 
triumph to Mr. Rassendyll. By the time I have 
played the whole game I am indeed proud of 
myself. Yet in truth — in daylight truth — I fear 
that, unless Heaven sent me a fresh set of brains, 
I should be caught in much the same way again. 
Though not by that fellow Bauer, I swear ! 
W ell, there it was ! They had made a fool of 
me. I lay on the road with a bloody head, and 

Rupert of Hentzau had the Queen’s letter. 

34 


CHAPTER III 


AGAIN TO ZENDA 

By Heaven’s care, or — since a man may be over- 
apt to arrogate to himself a great share of such 
attention — by good luck, I had not to trust for 
my life to the slender thread of an oath sworn 
by Rupert of Hentzau. The visions of my 
dazed brain were transmutations of reality ; the 
scuffle, the rush, the retreat were not all dream. 

There is an honest fellow now living at Win- 
tenberg comfortably and at his ease, by reason 
that his waggon chanced to come lumbering 
along with three or four stout lads in it, at the 
moment when Rupert was meditating a second 
and murderous blow. Seeing the group of us, 
the good carrier and his boys leapt down and 
rushed on my assailants. One of the thieves, 
they said, was for fighting it out — I could guess 
who that was — and called on the rest to stand ; 
but they, more prudent, laid hands on him, and 
in spite of his oaths hustled him off along the 
road towards the station. Open country lay 
there, and the promise of safety. My new friends 
set off in pursuit, but a couple of revolver-shots, 

heard by me but not understood, awoke their 

35 



RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

caution. Good Samaritans but not men of war, 
they returned to where I lay senseless on the 
ground, congratulating themselves and me that 
an enemy so well armed should run and not 
stand his ground. They forced a drink of rough 
wine down my throat, and in a minute or two I 
opened my eyes. They were for carrying me to 
a hospital. I would have none of it. As soon as 
things grew clear to me again and I knew where 
I was, I did nothing but repeat in urgent tones : 
44 The Golden Lion, the Golden Lion ! Twenty 
crowns to carry me to the Golden Lion ! ” 

Perceiving that I knew my own business and 
where I wished to go, one picked up my hand- 
bag and the rest hoisted me into their waggon 
and set out for the hotel where Rudolf Rassen- 
dyll was. The one thought my broken head 
held was to get to him as soon as might be, and 
tell him how I had been fool enough to let my- 
self be robbed of the Queen’s letter. 

He was there. He stood on the threshold of 
the inn, waiting for me, as it seemed, although 
it was not yet the hour of my appointment. As 
they drew me up to the door I saw his tall 
straight figure and his red hair by the light of 
the hall lamps. By heaven, I felt as a lost child 
must on sight of his mother ! I stretched out 
my hand to him over the side of the waggon, 

murmuring, 44 I’ve lost it.” 

36 


AGAIN TO ZENDA 


He started at the words, and sprang forward 
to me. Then he turned quickly to the carrier. 

“ This gentleman is my friend,” he said. 
“ Give him to me. I’ll speak to you later.” 

He waited while I was lifted down from the 
waggon into the arms that he held ready for me, 
and himself carried me across the threshold. I 
was quite clear in the head by now, and under- 
stood all that passed. There were one or two peo- 
ple in the hall, but Mr. Rassendyll took no heed 
of them. He bore me quickly upstairs and into 
his sitting-room. There he set me down in an 
armchair and stood opposite to me. He was 
smiling, but anxiety was awake in his eyes. 

“I’ve lost it,” I said again, looking up at him 
pitifully enough. 

“ That’s all right,” said he, nodding. “ Will 
you wait, or can you tell me ? ” 

“ Yes ; but give me some brandy,” said I. 

Rudolf gave me a little brandy mixed in a 
great deal of water, and then I made shift to tell 
him. Though faint, I was not confused, and I 
gave my story in brief, hurried, yet sufficient 
words. He made no sign till I mentioned the 
letter. Then his face changed. 

“ A letter too ? ” he exclaimed, in a strange 
mixture of increased apprehension and unlooked- 
for joy. 

“Yes, a letter too: she wrote a letter, and I 

37 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


carried that as well as the box. I’ve lost them 
both, Rudolf. God help me, I’ve lost them 
both ! Rupert has the letter too.” 

I think I must have been weak and unmanned 
from the blow I had received, for my composure 
broke down here. Rudolf stepped up to me and 
wrung me by the hand. I mastered myself again 
and looked in his face, as he stood in thought, 
his hand caressing the strong curve of his clean- 
shaven chin. Now that I was with him again it 
seemed as though I had never lost him, as though 
we were still together in Strelsau or at Tarlen- 
heim, planning how to hoodwink Black Michael, 
send Rupert of Hentzau to his own place, and 
bring the King back to his throne. For Mr. Ras- 
sendyll, as he stood before me now, was changed 
in nothing since our last meeting, nor indeed 
since he reigned in Strelsau, save that a few flecks 
of grey spotted his hair. 

My battered head ached most consumedly. 
Mr. Rassendyll rang the bell twice, and a short 
thickset man of middle age appeared ; he wore a 
suit of tweed and had the air of smartness and 
respectability which marks English servants. 

44 James,” said Rudolf, 44 this gentleman has 
hurt his head. Look after it.” 

James went out. In a few minutes he was 
back, with water, basin, towels, and bandages. 

Bending over me, he began to wash and tend 

38 


AGAIN TO ZENDA 

my wound very deftly. Rudolf was walking up 
and down. 

“ Done the head, James ? ” he asked, after a 
few moments. 

44 Yes, sir,” answered the servant, gathering to- 
gether his appliances. 

“ Telegraph forms, then.” 

James went out, and was back with the forms 
in an instant. 

44 Be ready when I ring,” said Rudolf. And 
he added, turning to me, 4 4 Any easier, Fritz ? ” 

“ I can listen to you now,” I said. 

44 I see their game,” said he. “ One or other 
of them — Rupert or this Rischenheim — will try 
to get to the King with the letter.” 

I sprang to my feet. 

“ They mustn’t ! ” I cried ; and I reeled back 
into my chair, with a feeling as if a red-hot poker 
were being run through my head. 

“ Much you can do to stop ’em, old fellow,” 
smiled Rudolf, pausing to press my hand as he 
went by. 44 They won't trust the post, you 
know. One will go. Now which?” He stood 
facing me with a thoughtful frown on his face. 

I did not know, but I thought that Rischen- 
heim would go. It was a great risk for Rupert 
to trust himself in the kingdom, and he knew 
that the King would not easily be persuaded to 

receive him, however startling might be the busi- 

39 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


ness he professed as his errand. On the other 
hand, nothing was known against Rischenheim, 
while his rank would secure and indeed entitle 
him to an early audience. Therefore I con- 
cluded that Rischenheim would go with the let- 
ter, or, if Rupert would not let that out of his 
possession, with the news of the letter. 

“ Or a copy,” suggested Rudolf. “ Well, 
Rischenheim or Rupert will be on his way by 
to-morrow morning, or is on his way to-night.” 

Again I tried to rise, for I was on fire to pre- 
vent the fatal consequences of my stupidity. 
Rudolf thrust me back in my chair, saying, 
“No, no.” Then he sat down at the table and 
took up the telegraph forms. 

“You and Sapt arranged a cipher, I sup- 
pose ? ” he asked. 

“ Yes. You write the message and I’ll put it 
into the cipher.” 

“ This is what I have written : 4 Document 
lost. Let nobody see him if possible. Wire 
who asks.’ I don’t like to make it plainer : most 
ciphers can be read, you know.” 

“ Not ours,” said I. 

“ Well, but will that do ? ” asked Rudolf with 
an unconvinced smile. 

“ Yes, I think he’ll understand it.” And I 
wrote it again in the cipher ; it was as much as 

I could do to hold the pen. 

40 


AGAIN TO ZENDA 


The bell was rung again, and James appeared 
in an instant. 

“ Send this,” said Rudolf. 

“ The offices will be shut, sir.” 

“ James, James ! ” 

“ Very good, sir ; but it may take an hour to 
get one open.” 

“ I’ll give you half an hour. Have you money? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ And now,” added Rudolf, turning to me, 
“ you’d better go to bed.” 

I do not recollect what I answered, for my 
faintness came upon me again, and I remember 
only that Rudolf himself helped me into his own 
bed. I slept, but I do not think he so much as 
lay down on the sofa ; chancing to awake once 
or twice, I heard him pacing about. But tow- 
ards morning I slept heavily, and I did not know 
what he was doing then. 

At eight o’clock James entered and roused 
me. He said that a doctor was to be at the 
hotel in half an hour, but that Mr. Rassendyll 
would like to see me for a few minutes if I felt 
equal to business. I begged James to summon 
his master at once. Whether I were equal or 
unequal, the business had to be done. 

Rudolf came, calm and serene. Danger and 
the need for exertion acted on him like a draught 

of good wine on a seasoned drinker. He was 

41 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


not only himself, but more than himself, his ex- 
cellencies enhanced, the indolence that marred 
him in quiet hours sloughed off. But to-day 
there was something more ; I can describe it 
only as a kind of radiance. I have seen it on 
the faces of young sparks when the lady they 
love comes through the ballroom door, and I 
have seen it glow more softly in a girl’s eyes 
when some fellow, who seemed to me nothing 
out of the ordinary, asked her for a dance. That 
strange gleam was on Rudolfs face as he stood 
by my bedside. I daresay it used to be on mine 
when I went courting. 

“ Fritz, old friend,” said he, “ there’s an answer 
from Sapt. I’ll lay the telegraph offices were 
stirred at Zenda as well as James stirred them 
here in Wintenberg. And what do you think ? 
Rischenheim asked for an audience before he left 
Strelsau.” 

I raised myself on my elbow in the bed. 

“ You understand ? ” he went on. “ He left 
on Monday. To-day’s W ednesday. The King 
has granted him an audience at four on Friday. 
Well, then ” 

44 They counted on success,” I cried, “ and 
Rischenheim takes the letter ! ” 

“A copy, if I know Rupert of Hentzau. Yes, 
it was well laid. I like the men taking all the 

cabs. How much ahead had they now ? ” 

42 




AGAIN TO ZENDA 


I did not know that, though I had no more 
doubt than he that Rupert’s hand was in the 
business. 

“ Well,” he continued, “ I am going to wire to 
Sapt to put Rischenheim off for twelve hours if 
he can — failing that, to get the King away from 
Zenda.” 

“ But Rischenheim must have his audience 
sooner or later,” I objected. 

“ Sooner or later — there’s the world’s differ- 
ence between them ! ” cried Rudolf Rassendyll. 
He sat down on the bed by me, and went on in 
quick decisive words : “ You can’t move for a 

day or two. Send my message to Sapt. Tell 
him to keep you informed of what happens. As 
soon as you can travel, go to Strelsau, and let 
Sapt know directly you arrive. We shall want 
your help.” 

“And what are you going to do ? ” I cried, 
staring at him. 

He looked at me for a moment, and his face 
was crossed by conflicting feelings. I saw re- 
solve there, obstinacy, and the scorn of danger ; 
fun, too, and merriment ; and, lastly, that same 
radiance I spoke of. He had been smoking a 
cigarette ; now he threw the end of it into the 
grate and rose from the bed where he had been 
sitting. 

“ I’m going to Zenda,” said he. 

43 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ To Zenda ? ” I cried, amazed. 

“Yes,” said Rudolf, “I’m going again to 
Zenda, Fritz, old fellow. By Jove, I knew it 
would come, and now it has come ! ” 

“ But to do what ? ” 

“ I shall overtake Rischenheim, or be hot on 
his heels. If he gets there first, Sapt will keep 
him waiting till I come ; and if I come, he shall 

never see the King. Yes, if I come in time ” 

He broke into a sudden laugh. “ What ? ” he 
cried. “ Have I lost my likeness ? Can’t I still 
play the King ? Yes, if I come in time, Rischen- 
heim shall have his audience of the King at 
Zenda, and the King will be very gracious to 
him, and the King will take his copy of the 
letter from him. Oh, Rischenheim shall have 
an audience of King Rudolf in the castle of 
Zenda, never fear ! ” 

He stood, looking to see how I received his 
plan ; but, amazed at the boldness of it, I could 
only lie back and gasp. 

Rudolf’s excitement left him as suddenly as 
it had come ; he was again the cool, shrewd, 
nonchalant Englishman, as, lighting another 
cigarette, he proceeded : 

“ You see, there are two of them — Rupert and 
Rischenheim. Now you can’t move for a day or 
two, that’s certain. But there must be two of us 
there in Ruritania. Rischenheim is to try first ; 

44 


AGAIN TO ZENDA 


but, if he fails, Rupert will risk everything and 
break through to the King’s presence. Give him 
five minutes with the King, and the mischief’s 
done. Very well, then : Sapt must keep Ru- 
pert at bay, while I tackle Rischenheim. As 
soon as you can move, go to Strelsau and let 
Sapt know where you are.’’ 

“ But if you’re seen — if you’re found out ? ” 

“ Better I than the Queen’s letter,” said he. 
Then he laid his hand on my arm and said quite 
quietly : “If the letter gets to the King, I and 
I only can do what must be done.” 

I did not know what he meant : perhaps it 
was that he would carry off the Queen sooner 
than leave her alone after her letter was known ; 
but there was another possible meaning that I, 
a loyal subject, dared not inquire into. Yet I 
made no answer, for I was above all and first of 
all the Queen’s servant. Still I cannot believe 
that he meant harm to the King. 

“ Come, Fritz,” he cried, “ don’t look so glum. 
This is not so great an affair as the other, and 
we brought that through safe.” I suppose I 
still looked doubtful, for he added, with a sort 
of impatience: “Well, I’m going, anyhow. 
Heavens, man, am I to sit here while that letter 
is carried to the King ? ” 

I understood his feeling, and knew that he held 

life a light thing compared with the recovery of 
a 45 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


Queen Flavia’s letter. I ceased to urge him. 
When I assented to his wishes, every shadow 
vanished from his face, and we began to discuss 
the details of the plan with businesslike brevity. 

“ I shall leave James with you,” said Rudolf. 
“ Hell be very useful, and you can rely on him 
absolutely. Any message that you dare trust to 
no other conveyance, give to him ; hell carry it. 
He can shoot too.” He rose as he spoke. “ 111 
look in before I start,” he added, “ and hear what 
the doctor says about you.” 

I lay there, thinking, as men sick and weary 
in body will, of the dangers and the desperate 
nature of the risk, rather than of the hope which 
its boldness would have inspired in a healthy 
active brain. I distrusted the rapid inference 
that Rudolf had drawn from S apt’s telegram, 
telling myself that it was based on too slender a 
foundation. Well, there I was wrong, and I am 
glad now to pay that tribute to his discernment. 
The first steps of Rupert’s scheme were laid 
as Rudolf had conjectured : Rischenheim had 
started, even while I lay there, for Zenda, carry- 
ing on his person a copy of the Queen’s farewell 
letter and armed for his enterprise by his right of 
audience with the King. So far we were right, 
then ; for the rest we were in darkness, not 
knowing or being able even to guess where 

Rupert would choose to await the result of the 

46 


AGAIN TO ZENDA 


first cast, or what precautions he had taken 
against the failure of his envoy. But although 
in total obscurity as to his future plans, I traced 
his past actions, and subsequent knowledge has 
shown that I was right. Bauer was his tool ; a 
couple of florins apiece had hired the fellows 
who, conceiving that they were playing a part in 
some practical joke, had taken all the cabs at 
the station. Rupert had reckoned that I should 
linger looking for my servant and luggage, and 
thus miss my last chance of a vehicle. If, how- 
ever, I had obtained one, the attack would still 
have been made, although of course under much 
greater difficulties. Finally, — and of this at the 
time I knew nothing, — had I evaded them and 
got safe to port with my cargo, the plot would 
have been changed. Ruperts attention would 
then have been diverted from me to Rudolf; 
counting on love overcoming prudence, he reck- 
oned that Mr. Rassendyll would not at once 
destroy what the Queen sent, and had arranged 
to track his steps from Wintenberg till an oppor- 
tunity offered of robbing him of his treasure. 
The full scheme, as 1 know it, was full of auda- 
cious cunning and required large resources ; the 
former Rupert himself supplied, for the second 
he was indebted to his cousin and slave, the 
Count of Luzau-Rischenheim. 

My meditations were interrupted by the arrival 

47 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


of the doctor. He hummed and ha’d over me, 
but, to my surprise, asked me no questions as to 
the cause of my misfortune, and did not, as I 
had feared, suggest that his efforts should be 
seconded by those of the police. On the con- 
trary he appeared, from an unobtrusive hint or 
two, to be anxious that I should know that his 
discretion could be trusted. 

“You must not think of moving for a couple 
of days,” he said ; “ but then I think we can get 
you away without danger and quite quietly.” 

I thanked him ; he promised to look in again ; 
I murmured something about his fee. 

“ Oh, thank you, that is all settled,” he said. 
“ Your friend Herr Schmidt has seen to it, and, 
my dear sir, most liberally.” 

He was hardly gone when “ my friend Herr 
Schmidt ” — alias Rudolf Rassendyll — was back. 
He laughed a little when I told him how dis- 
creet the doctor had been. 

“You see,” he explained, “he thinks you’ve 
been very indiscreet. I was obliged, my dear 
Fritz, to take some liberties with your character. 
However it’s odds against the matter coming to 
your wife’s ears.” 

“ But couldn’t we have laid the others by the 
heels ? ” 

“ With the letter on Rupert ? My dear fel- 
low, you’re very ill ! ” 


48 


AGAIN TO ZENDA 


I laughed at myself, and forgave Rudolf his 
trick, though I think that he might have made 
my fictitious inamorata something more than a 
baker’s wife. It would have cost no more to 
make her a countess, and the doctor would have 
looked with more respect on me. However 
Rudolf had said that the baker broke my head 
with his rolling-pin, and thus the story rests in 
the doctor’s mind to this day. 

“ Well, I’m off,” said Rudolf. 

“ But where ? ” 

“ Why, to that same little station where two 
good friends parted from me once before. Fritz, 
where’s Rupert gone ? ” 

“ I wish we knew ! ” 

“ I lay he won’t be far off.” 

“ Are you armed ? ” d 

“ The six-shooter. Well, yes, since you press 
me, a knife too ; but only if he uses one. You’ll 
let Sapt know when you come ? ” 

“ Yes ; and I come the moment I can stand.” 

“ As if you need tell me that, old fellow ! ” 

“ Where do you go from the station ? ” 

“ To Zenda, through the forest,” he answered. 
“ I shall reach the station about nine to-morrow 
night, Thursday. Unless Rischenheim has got 
the audience sooner than was arranged, I shall 
be in time.” 

“ How will you get hold of Sapt ? ” 

49 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

“We must leave something to the minute.” 

“ God bless you, Rudolf ! ” 

“ The King shan’t have the letter, Fritz.” 

There was a moment’s silence as we shook 
hands. Then that soft yet bright look came in 
his eyes again. He looked down at me, and 
caught me regarding him with a smile that I 
know was not unkind. 

“ I never thought I should see her again,” he 
said. “ I think I shall now, Fritz. To have a 
turn with that boy, and to see her again — it’s 
worth something.” 

“ How will you see her ? ” 

Rudolf laughed, and I laughed too. He 
caught my hand again. I think that he was 
anxious to infect me with his gaiety and confi- 
dence. But I could not answer to the appeal of 
his eyes. There was a motive in him that found 
no place in me — a great longing, the prospect or 
hope of whose sudden fulfilment dwarfed dan- 
ger and banished despair. He saw that I de- 
tected its presence in him and perceived how it 
filled his mind. 

“ But the letter comes before all,” said he. 
“ I expected to die without seeing her ; I will 
die without seeing her, if I must, to save the 
letter.” 

“ I know you will,” said I. 

He pressed my hand again. As he turned 

50 


AGAIN TO ZENDA 


away, James came with his noiseless quick step 
into the room. 

“ The carriage is at the door, sir,” said he. 

“ Look after the Count, James,” said Rudolf. 
“ Don’t leave him till he sends you away.” 

“ Very well, sir.” 

I raised myself in bed. “ Here’s luck ! ” I 
cried, catching up the lemonade James had 
brought to me and taking a gulp of it. 

“ Please God,” said Rudolf, with a shrug. 

And he was gone to his work and his reward, 
to save the Queen’s letter and to see the Queen’s 
face. Thus he went a second time to Zenda. 


51 


r 


CHAPTER IV 
AN EDDY ON THE MOAT 

On the evening of Thursday, the sixteenth of 
October, the Constable of Zenda was very much 
out of humour ; he has since confessed as much. 
To risk the peace of a palace for the sake of a 
lover’s greeting had never been wisdom to his 
mind, and he had been sorely impatient with 
“ that fool Fritz’s ” yearly pilgrimage. The let- 
ter of farewell had been an added folly, pregnant 
with chances of disaster. Now disaster, or the 
danger of it, had come. The curt mysterious 
telegrams from Wintenberg, which told him so 
little, at least told him that. It ordered him — 
and he did not know even whose the order was — 
to delay Rischenheim’s audience, or, if he could 
not, to get the King away from Zenda ; why he 
was to act thus was not disclosed to him. But 
he knew as well as I that Rischenheim was com- 
pletely in Rupert’s hands, and he could not fail 
to guess that something had gone wrong at Win- 
tenberg, and that Rischenheim came to tell the 
King some news that the King must not hear. 
His task sounded simple, but it was not so easy ; 

for he did not know where Rischenheim was, 

52 


AN EDDY ON THE MOAT 


and so could not prevent his coming. Besides 
the King had been very pleased to learn of the 
Count’s approaching visit, since he desired to 
talk with him on the subject of a certain breed 
of dogs, which the Count bred with great, His 
Majesty with only indifferent, success ; therefore 
he had declared that nothing should interfere 
with his reception of Rischenheim. In vain 
Sapt told him that a large boar had been seen in 
the forest, and that a fine day’s sport might be 
expected if he would hunt next day. 

“ I shouldn’t be back in time to see Rischen- 
heim,” said the King. 

“ Your Majesty would be back by nightfall,” 
suggested Sapt. 

“ I should be too tired to talk to him, and I’ve 
a great deal to discuss.” 

“You could sleep at the hunting-lodge, sire, 

and ride back to receive the Count next morn- 
• 

mg. 

“ I’m anxious to see him as soon as may be.” 
Then he looked up at Sapt with a sick man’s 
quick suspicion. “ Why shouldn’t I see him ? ” 
he asked. 

“ It’s a pity to miss the boar, sire,” was all 
Sapt’s plea. The King made light of it. 

“ Curse the boar ! ” said he. “ I want to know 
how he gets the dogs’ coats so fine.” 

As the King spoke a servant entered, carrying 

53 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


a telegram for Sapt. The Colonel took it and 
put it in his pocket. 

“ Read it,” said the King. He had dined and 
was about to go to bed, it being nearly ten 
o’clock. 

“ It will keep, sire,” answered Sapt, who did 
not know but that it might be from Winten- 
berg. 

“ Read it,” insisted the King testily. “ It 
may be from Rischenheim. Perhaps he can get 
here sooner. I should like to know about those 
dogs. Read it, I beg.” 

Sapt could do nothing but read it. He had 
taken to spectacles lately, and he spent a long 
while adjusting them and thinking what he 
should do if the message were not fit for the 
King’s ear. 

“ Be quick, man, be quick ! ” urged the irritable 
King. 

Sapt had got the envelope open at last ; and 
relief, mingled with perplexity, showed in his 
face. 

“ Your Majesty guessed wonderfully well. 
Rischenheim can be here at eight to-morrow 
morning,” he said, looking up. 

“Capital ! ” cried the King. “ He shall break- 
fast with me at nine, and I’ll have a ride after the 
boar when we’ve done our business. Now are 
you satisfied ? ” 


54 




AN EDDY ON THE MOAT 

“Perfectly, sire,” said Sapt, biting his mous- 
tache. 

The King rose with a yawn, and bade the 
Colonel good-night. “ He must have some trick 
I don’t know with those dogs,” he remarked, as 
he went out ; “ and ” 

“ Damn the dogs ! ” cried Colonel Sapt the 
moment that the door was shut behind His 
Majesty. 

But the Colonel was not a man to accept de- 
feat easily. The audience that he had been in- 
structed to postpone was advanced ; the King, 
whom he had been told to get away from Zenda, 
would not go till he had seen Rischenheim. Still 
there are many ways of preventing a meeting. 
Some are by fraud, these it is no injustice to Sapt 
to say that he had tried ; some are by force, and 
the Colonel was being driven to the conclusion 
that one of these must be his resort. 

“ Though the King,” he mused with a grin, 
“ will be furious if anything happens to Rischen- 
heim before he’s told him about the dogs.” 

Yet he fell to racking his brains to find a 
means by which the Count might be rendered 
incapable of performing the service so desired by 
the King and of carrying out his own purpose in 
seeking an audience. Nothing save assassination 
suggested itself to the Constable ; a quarrel and 

a duel offered no security; and Sapt was not 

55 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


Black Michael, and had no band of ruffians to 
join him in an apparently unprovoked kidnap- 
ping of a distinguished nobleman. 

“ I can think of nothing,” muttered Sapt, ris- 
ing from his chair and moving across towards the 
window, in search of the fresh air that a man so 
often thinks will give him a fresh idea. He was 
in his own quarters, that room of the new chateau 
which opens on to the moat immediately to the 
right of the drawbridge as you face the old castle ; 
it was the room which Duke Michael had oc- 
cupied, and almost opposite to the spot where 
the great pipe had connected the window of the 
King’s dungeon with the waters of the moat. 
The bridge was down now, for peaceful days had 
come to Zenda ; the pipe was gone, and the 
dungeon’s window, though still barred, was un- 
covered. The night was clear and fine, and the 
still water gleamed fitfully as the moon, half-full, 
escaped from or was hidden by passing clouds. 
Sapt stood staring out gloomily, beating his 
knuckles on the stone sill. The fresh air was 
there, but the fresh idea tarried. 

Suddenly the Constable bent forward, craning 
his head out and down, far as he could stretch it, 
towards the water. What he had seen, or seemed 
dimly to see, is a sight common enough on the 
surface of water — large circular eddies, widening 

from a centre ; a stone thrown in makes them, 

56 


AN EDDY ON THE MOAT 


or a fish on the rise. But Sapt had thrown no 
stone, and the fish in the moat were few and not 
rising then. The light was behind Sapt and 
threw his figure into bold relief. The royal 
apartments looked out the other way ; there were 
no lights in the windows this side the bridge, 
although beyond it the guards’ lodgings and the 
servants’ offices still showed a light here and 
there. Sapt waited till the eddies ceased. Then 
he heard the faintest sound, as of a large body 
let very gently into the water ; a moment later, 
from the moat right below him, a man’s head 
emerged. 

“ Sapt ! ” said a voice, low but distinct. 

The old Colonel started, and, resting both 
hands on the sill, bent farther out, till he seemed 
in danger of overbalancing. 

“ Quick — to the ledge on the other side. You 
know,” said the voice, and the head turned ; with 
quick quiet strokes the man crossed the moat till 
he was hidden in the triangle of deep shade 
formed by the meeting of the drawbridge and 
the old castle wall. Sapt watched him go, al- 
most stupefied by the sudden wonder of hearing 
that voice come to him out of the stillness of 
the night. For the King was abed; and who 
spoke in that voice save the King and one 
other ? 

Then, with a curse at himself for his delay, he 

57 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


turned and walked quickly across the room. 
Opening the door, he found himself in the pass- 
age. But here he ran right into the arms of 
young Bernenstein, the Officer of the Guard, 
who was going his rounds. Sapt knew and 
trusted him, for he had been with us all through 
the siege of Zenda, when Michael kept the King 
a prisoner, and he bore marks given him by Ru- 
pert of Hentzau’s ruffians. He now held a com- 
mission as lieutenant in the Cuirassiers of the 
King’s Guard. 

He noticed Sapt’s bearing, for he cried out in 
a low voice : 

“ Anything wrong, sir ? ” 

“ Bernenstein, my boy, the Castle’s all right 
about here. Go round to the front, and, hang 
you, stay there,” said Sapt. 

The officer stared, as well he might. Sapt 
caught him by the arm. 

“ No, stay here. See, stand by the door there 
that leads to the royal apartments. Stand there, 
and let nobody pass. You understand ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ And whatever you hear, don’t look round.” 

Bernenstein’s bewilderment grew greater ; but 
Sapt was Constable, and on Sapt’s shoulders lay 
the responsibility for the safety of Zenda and all 
in it. 

“ Very well, sir,” he said with a submissive 

58 


AN EDDY ON THE MOAT 


shrug, and he drew his sword and stood by the 
door : he could obey although he could not un- 
derstand. 

Sapt ran on. Opening the gate that led to 
the bridge, he sped across. Then stepping on 
one side and turning his face to the wall, he de- 
scended the steps that gave foothold down to the 
ledge running six or eight inches above the 
water. He also was now in the triangle of deep 
darkness, yet he knew that a man was there, who 
stood straight and tall, rising above his own 
height. And he felt his hand caught in a sud- 
den grip. Rudolf Rassendyll was there, in his 
wet drawers and socks. 

“ Is it you ? ” he whispered. 

“ Yes,” answered Rudolf: “I swam round from 
the other side and got here. Then I threw in a 
bit of mortar, but I wasn’t sure I’d roused you, 
and I didn’t dare shout, so I followed it myself. 
Lay hold of me a minute while I get on my 
breeches : I didn’t want to get wet, so I carried 
my clothes in a bundle. Hold me tight — it’s 
slippery.” 

“In God’s name, what brings you here ? ” 
whispered Sapt, catching Rudolf by the arm as 
he was directed. 

“ The Queen’s service. When does Rischen- 
heim come ? ” 

“ To-morrow at eight.” 

59 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ The deuce ! That’s earlier than I thought. 
And the King ? ” 

“ Is here and determined to see him. It’s im- 
possible to move him from it.” 

There was a moment’s silence ; Rudolf drew 
his shirt over his head and tucked it into his 
trousers. “ Give me the jacket and waistcoat,” 
he said. “ I feel deuced damp underneath, 
though.” 

“ You’ll soon get dry,” grinned Sapt. “ You’ll 
be kept moving, you see.” 

“ I’ve lost my hat.” 

“ Seems to me you’ve lost your head too.” 

“ You’ll find me both, eh, Sapt? ” 

“ As good as your own, anyhow,” growled the 
Constable. 

“ Now the boots, and I’m ready.” Then he 
asked quickly, “ Has the King seen or heard 
from Rischenheim ? ” 

“ Neither, except through me.” 

“ Then why is he so set on seeing him ? ” 

“ To find out what gives dogs smooth coats.” 

“ You’re serious ? Hang you, I can’t see your 
face.” 

“ Absolutely.” 

“ All’s well, then. Has he got a beard now ? ’ 

“Yes.” 

“ Confound him ! Can’t you take me any- 
where to talk ? ” 


60 


AN EDDY ON THE MOAT 


46 What the deuce are you here at all for ? ” 

“ To meet Rischenheim.” 

44 To meet ? ” 

“Yes. Sapt, he’s got a copy of the Queen’s 
letter.” 

Sapt twirled his moustache. 

“ I’ve always said as much,” he remarked in 
tones of satisfaction. He need not have said it ; 
he would have been more than human not to 
think it. 

“ Where can you take me to ? ” asked Rudolf 
impatiently. 

“Any room with a door and a lock to it,’ 
answered old Sapt. “ I command here, and 
when I say, 4 Stay out ’ — well, they don’t come 
in.” 

“ Not the King ? ” 

44 The King is in bed. Come along,” and the 
Constable set his toe on the lowest step. 

“Is there nobody about ? ” asked Rudolf, 
catching his arm. 

“ Bernenstein : but he will keep his back 
towards us.” 

44 Your discipline is still good, then, Colonel ? ” 

“ Pretty well for these days, Your Majesty,” 
grunted Sapt, as he reached the level of the 
bridge. 

Having crossed, they entered the chateau. 

The passage was empty save for Bernenstein, 
5 61 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


whose broad back barred the way from the royal 
apartments. 

“In here,” whispered Sapt, laying his hand on 
the door of the room whence he had come. 

“ All right,” answered Rudolf. Bernenstein’s 
hand twitched, but he did not look round. 
There was discipline in the Castle of Zenda. 

But as Sapt was half-way through the door 
and Rudolf about to follow him, the other door, 
that which Bernenstein guarded, was softly yet 
swiftly opened. Bernenstein’s sword was in rest 
in an instant. A muttered oath from Sapt and 
Rudolf’s quick snatch at his breath greeted the 
interruption. Bernenstein did not look round, 
but his sword fell to his side. In the doorway 
stood Queen Flavia, all in white ; and now her 
face turned white as her dress. For her eyes 
had fallen on Rudolf Rassendyll. For a moment 
the four stood thus ; then Rudolf passed Sapt, 
thrust Bernenstein’s brawny shoulders (the young 
man had not looked round) out of the way, and, 
falling on his knee before the Queen, seized her 
hand and kissed it. Bernenstein could see now 
without looking round, and if astonishment 
could kill, he would have been a dead man that 
instant. He fairly reeled and leant against the 
wall, his mouth hanging open. For the King 
was in bed, and had a beard ; yet here was the 

King, fully dressed and clean shaven, and he was 

62 


AN EDDY ON THE MOAT 


kissing the Queen’s hand, while she gazed down 
on him in a struggle between amazement, fright 
and joy. A soldier should be prepared for any- 
thing, but I cannot be hard on young Bernen- 
stein’s bewilderment. 

Yet there was in truth nothing strange in the 
Queen seeking to see old Sapt that night, nor in 
her guessing where he would most probably be 
found. For she had asked him three times 
whether news had come from Wintenberg and 
each time he had put her off with excuses. 
Quick to forebode evil, and conscious of the 
pledge to fortune that she had given in her let- 
ter, she had determined to know from him 
whether there were really cause for alarm, and 
had stolen, undetected, from her apartments to 
seek him. What filled her at once with unbear- 
able apprehension and incredulous joy was to 
find Rudolf present in actual flesh and blood, no 
longer in sad longing dreams or visions, and to 
feel his live lips on her hand. 

Lovers count neither time nor danger ; but 
Sapt counted both, and no more than a moment 
had passed before, with eager imperative gest- 
ures, he beckoned them to enter the room. 
The Queen obeyed, and Rudolf followed her. 

“ Let nobody in, and don’t say a word to any- 
body,” whispered Sapt, as he entered, leaving 

Bernenstein outside. The young man was half- 

63 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


dazed still, but he had sense to read the expres- 
sion in the Constable’s eyes and to learn from it 
that he must give his life sooner than let the 
door be opened. So with drawn sword he stood 
on guard. 

It was eleven o’clock when the Queen came, 
and midnight had struck from the great clock 
of the Castle before the door opened again and 
Sapt came out. His sword was not drawn, but 
he had his revolver in his hand. He shut the 
door silently after him and began at once to talk 
in low, earnest, quick tones to Bernenstein. 
Bernenstein listened intently and without inter- 
rupting. S apt’s story ran on for eight or nine 
minutes. Then he paused, before asking : 

“You understand now ? ” 

“ Yes, it is wonderful,” said the young man, 
drawing in his breath. 

“ Pooh ! ” said Sapt. “ Nothing is wonderful : 
some things are unusual.” 

Bernenstein was not convinced, and shrugged 
his shoulders in protest. 

“ Well ? ” said the Constable, with a quick 
glance at him. 

“ I would die for the Queen, sir,” he answered, 
clicking his heels together as though on parade. 

“ Good,” said Sapt. “ Then listen,” and he 
began again to talk. Bernenstein nodded from 

time to time. “You’ll meet him at the gate,” 

64 


AN EDDY ON THE MOAT 


said the Constable, “ and bring him straight here. 
He’s not to go anywhere else, you understand 

me ? ” 

“ Perfectly, Colonel,” smiled young Bernen- 
stein. 

“ The King will be in this room — the King. 
You know who is the King ? ” 

“Perfectly, Colonel.” 

“ And when the interview is ended, and we go 
to breakfast ” 

“I know who will be the King then. Yes, 
Colonel.” 

“ Good. But we do him no harm unless ” 

“ It is necessary.” 

“ Precisely.” 

Sapt turned away with a little sigh. Bernen- 
stein was an apt pupil, but the Colonel was ex- 
hausted by so much explanation. He knocked 
softly at the door of the room. The Queen’s voice 
bade him enter, and he passed in. Bernenstein 
was left alone again in the passage, pondering 
over what he had heard and rehearsing the part 
that it now fell to him to play. As he thought, 
he may well have raised his head proudly. The 
service seemed so great and the honour so high, 
that he almost wished he could die in the per- 
forming of his role. It would be a finer death 
than his soldier’s dreams had dared to picture. 

At one o’clock Colonel Sapt came out. 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ Go to bed till six,” said he to Bernenstein. 

“I am not sleepy.” 

“No, but you will be at eight if you don’t 
sleep now.” 

“ Is the Queen coming out, Colonel ? ” 

“ In a minute, Lieutenant.” 

“ I should like to kiss her hand.” 

“ Well, if you think it worth waiting a quarter 
of an hour for,” said Sapt, with a slight smile. 

“You said a minute, sir.” 

“ So did she,” answered the Constable. 

Nevertheless it was a quarter of an hour 
before Rudolf Rassendyll opened the door and 
the Queen appeared on the threshold. She was 
very pale, and she had been crying, but her eyes 
were happy and her air firm. The moment he 
saw her, young Bernenstein fell on his knees and 
raised her hand to his lips. 

“To the death, madame,” said he in a trem- 
bling voice. 

“ I knew it, sir,” she answered graciously. 
Then she looked round on the three of them. 
“ Gentlemen,” said she, “ my servants and dear 
friends, with you, and with Fritz who lies 
wounded in Wintenberg, rest my honour and 
my life ; for I will not live if the letter reaches 
the King.” 

“ The King shall not have it, madame,” said 
Colonel Sapt. 


66 


AN EDDY ON THE MOAT 


He took her hand in his and patted it with a 
clumsy gentleness ; smiling, she extended it 
again to young Bernenstein, in mark of her 
favour. They two then stood at the salute, 
while Rudolf walked with her to the end of the 
passage. There for a moment she and he stood 
together ; the others turned their eyes away and 
thus did not see her suddenly stoop and cover 
his hand with her kisses. He tried to draw it 
away, not thinking it fit that she should kiss his 
hand, but she seemed as though she could not 
let it go. Yet at last, still with her eyes on his, 
she passed backwards through the door, and he 
shut it after her. 

“ Now to business,” said Colonel Sapt dryly ; 
and Rudolf laughed a little. 

Rudolf passed into the room. Sapt went to 
the King’s apartments, and asked the physician 
whether His Majesty were sleeping well. Re- 
ceiving reassuring news of the royal slumbers, he 
proceeded to the quarters of the King’s body- 
servant, knocked up the sleepy wretch, and 
ordered breakfast for the King and the Count of 
Luzau-Rischenheim at nine o’clock precisely, in 
the morning-room that looks out over the avenue 
leading to the entrance of the new chateau. 
This done, he returned to the room where 
Rudolf was, carried a chair into the passage, 

bade Rudolf lock the door, sat down, revolver in 

67 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


hand, and himself went to sleep. Young Ber- 
nenstein was in bed just now, taken faint, and 
the Constable himself was acting as his substi- 
tute : that was to be the story, if a story were 
needed. Thus the hours from two to six passed 
that morning in the Castle of Zenda. 

At six the Constable awoke and knocked at 
the door ; Rudolf Rassendyll opened it. 

“ Slept well ? ” asked Sapt. 

‘‘Not a wink,” answered Rudolf cheerfully. 

“ I thought you had more nerve.” 

“ It wasn’t want of nerve that kept me 
awake,” said Mr. Rassendyll. 

Sapt, with a pitying shrug, looked round. 
The curtains of the window were half-drawn. 
The table was moved nearer to the wall, and the 
armchair by it was well in shadow, being quite 
close to the curtains. 

“ There’s plenty of room for you behind,” said 
Rudolf ; “ and when Rischenheim is seated in 
his chair opposite to mine, you can put your 
barrel against his head by just stretching out 
your hand. And of course I can do the same.” 

“Yes, it looks well enough,” said Sapt, with 
an approving nod. 

“ What about the beard ? ” 

* “ Bernenstein is to tell him you’ve shaved this 
morning.” 

“ Will he believe that? ” 

68 


AN EDDY ON THE MOAT 


“Why not? For his own sake he’d better 
believe everything.” 

“ And if we have to kill him ? ” 

“ We must run for it. The King would be 
furious.” 

' “He’s fond of him ? ” 

“ You forget. He wants to know about the 
dogs.” 

“ True. You’ll be in your place in time? ” 

“ Of course.” 

Rudolf Rassendyll took a turn up and down 
the room. It was easy to see that the events of 
the night had disturbed him. Sapt’s thoughts 
were running in a different channel. 

“ When we’ve done with this fellow, we must 
find Rupert,” said he. 

Rudolf started. 

“ Rupert ? Rupert ? True ; I forgot. Of 
course we must,” said he confusedly. 

Sapt looked scornful ; he knew that his com- 
panion’s mind had been occupied with the Queen. 
But his remarks — if he had meditated any — were 
interrupted by the clock striking seven. 

“ He’ll be here in an hour,” said he. 

“ W e’re ready for him,” answered Rudolf Ras- 
sendyll. With the thought of action his eyes 
grew bright and his brow smooth again. He 
and old Sapt looked at one another, and they 
both smiled. 


69 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ Like old times, isn’t it, Sapt ? ” 

“ Aye, sire, like the reign of good King Ru- 
dolf.” 

Thus they made ready for the Count of Luzau- 
Rischenheim, while my cursed wound held me a 
prisoner at Wintenberg. It is still a sorrow to 
me that I know what passed that morning only 
by report, and had not the honour of bearing a 
part in it. Still Her Majesty did not forget me, 
but remembered that I would have taken my 
share, had fortune allowed. Indeed I would 
most eagerly. 


70 


CHAPTER V 


AN AUDIENCE OF THE KING 

Having come thus far in the story that I set 
out to tell, I have half a mind to lay down my 
pen, and leave untold how from the moment that 
Mr. Rassendyll came again to Zenda a fury of 
chance seemed to catch us all in a whirlwind, 
carrying us whither we would not, and ever driv- 
ing us onward to fresh enterprises, breathing 
into us a recklessness that stood at no obstacle, 
and a devotion to the Queen and to the man she 
loved that swept away all other feelings. The 
ancients held there to be a Fate which would 
have its fill, though women wept and men died, 
and none could tell whose was the guilt nor who 
fell innocent. Thus did they blindly wrong 
God’s Providence. Yet, save that we are taught 
to believe that all is ruled, we are as blind as 
they, and are still left wondering why all that 
is true and generous and love’s own fruit must 
turn so often to woe and shame, exacting tears 
and blood. For myself I would leave the thing 
untold, lest a word of it should seem to stain her 
whom I serve ; it is by her own command I 

write, that all may one day, in time’s fulness, 

71 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

be truly known, and those condemn who are 
without sin, while they pity whose own hearts 
have fought the equal fight. So much for her 
and him ; for us less needs be said. It was not 
ours to weigh her actions : we served her ; him 
we had served. She was our Queen ; we bore 
Heaven a grudge that he was not our King. 
The worst of what befell was not of our own 
planning, no, nor of our hoping. It came a 
thunderbolt from the hand of Rupert, flung care- 
lessly between a curse and a laugh ; its coming 
entangled us more tightly in the net of circum- 
stances. Then there arose in us that strange and 
overpowering desire of which I must tell later, 
filling us with a zeal to accomplish our purpose, 
and to force Mr. Rassendyll himself into the 
way we chose. Led by this star, we pressed on 
through the darkness, until at length the deeper 
darkness fell that stayed our steps. We also 
stand for judgment, even as she and he. So I 
will write ; but I will write plainly and briefly, 
setting down what I must and no more, yet seek- 
ing to give truly the picture of that time, and to 
preserve as long as may be the portrait of the 
man whose like I have not known. Yet the 
fear is always upon me that, failing to show him 
as he was, I may fail also in gaining an under- 
standing of how he wrought on us, one and all, 

till his cause became in all things the right, and 

72 


AN AUDIENCE OF THE KING 


to seat him where he should be our highest duty 
and our nearest wish. For he said little, and 
that straight to the purpose ; no high-flown 
words of his live in my memory. And he asked 
nothing for himself. Yet his speech and his 
eyes went straight to men’s hearts and women’s, 
so that they held their lives in an eager attendance 
on his bidding. Do I rave ? Then Sapt was a 
raver too, for Sapt was foremost in the business. 

At ten minutes to eight o’clock, young Bern- 
enstein, very admirably and smartly accoutred, 
took his stand outside the main entrance of the 
Castle. He wore a confident air that became 
almost a swagger as he strolled to and fro past 
the motionless sentries. He had not long to 
wait. On the stroke of eight a gentleman, well 
horsed but entirely unattended, rode up the car- 
riage drive. Bernenstein, crying, “ Ah, it is the 
Count ! ” ran to meet him. Rischenheim dis- 
mounted, holding out his hand to the young 
officer. 

“ My dear Bernenstein ! ” said he, for they were 
acquainted with one another. 

“ You’re punctual, my dear Rischenheim, and 
it’s lucky, for the King awaits you most impa- 
tiently.” 

“ I didn’t expect to find him up so soon,” re- 
marked Rischenheim. 

“ Up ! He’s been up these two hours. In- 

73 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


deed we’ve had the devil of a time of it. Treat 
him carefully, my dear Count ; he’s in one of 
his troublesome humours. For example — but I 
mustn’t keep you waiting. Pray follow me.” 

“No, but pray tell me. Otherwise I might 
say something unfortunate.” 

“ Well, he woke at six ; and when the barber 
came to trim his beard there were — imagine it. 
Count! — no less than seven grey hairs. The 
King fell into a passion. 6 Take it off,’ he said. 

‘ Take it off. I won’t have a grey beard ! Take 
it off! * Well, what would you ? A man is free 
to be shaved if he chooses, so much more a King. 
So it’s taken off.” 

“ His beard ? ” 

“ His beard, my dear Count. Then, after 
thanking heaven it was gone and declaring he 
looked ten years younger, he cried, 6 The Count 
of Luzau-Rischenheim breakfasts with me to- 
day : what is there for breakfast ? ’ And he had 
the chef out of his bed and — but, by heavens, I 
shall get into trouble if I stop here chattering. 
He’s waiting most eagerly for you. Come along.” 
And Bernenstein, passing his arm through the 
Count’s, walked him rapidly into the Castle. 

The Count of Luzau-Rischenheim was a young 
man ; he was no more versed in affairs of this 
kind than Bernenstein, and it cannot be said that 

he showed so much aptitude for them. He was 

74 


AN AUDIENCE OF THE KING 


decidedly pale this morning ; his manner was un- 
easy, and his hands trembled. He did not lack 
courage, but that rarer virtue, coolness ; and the 
importance — or perhaps the shame — of his mis- 
sion upset the balance of his nerves. Hardly not- 
ing where he went, he allowed Bernenstein to 
lead him quickly and directly towards the room 
where Rudolf Rassendyll was, not doubting that 
he was being conducted to the King’s presence. 

“ Breakfast is ordered for nine,” said Bernen- 
stein, “ but he wants to see you before. He has 
something important to say ; and you perhaps 
have the same ? ” 

“ I ? Oh, no. A small matter ; but — er — of 
a private nature.” 

“ Quite so, quite so. Oh, I don’t ask any 
questions, my dear Count.” 

“ Shall I find the King alone ? ” asked Risch- 
enheim nervously. 

“ I don’t think you’ll find anybody with him : 
no, nobody, I think,” answered Bernenstein with 
a grave and reassuring air. 

They had arrived now at the door. Here 
Bernenstein paused. 

“I am ordered to wait outside till His Maj- 
esty summons me,” he said in a low voice, as 
though he feared that the irritable King would 
hear him. “ I’ll open the door and announce 

you. Pray keep him in a good temper, for all 

75 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


our sakes.” And he flung the door open, saying, 
“ Sire, the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim has the 
honour to wait on your Majesty.” With this he 
shut the door promptly, and stood against it. 
Nor did he move, save once, and then only to 
take out his revolver and inspect it carefully. 

The Count advanced, bowing low and striving 
to conceal a visible agitation. He saw the King 
in his armchair ; the King wore a suit of brown 
tweeds (none the better for being crushed into a 
bundle the night before) ; his face was in deep 
shadow, but Rischenheim perceived that the 
beard was indeed gone. The King held out his 
hand to Rischenheim, and motioned him to sit 
in a chair just opposite to him and within a foot 
of the window-curtains. 

“ I’m delighted to see you, my lord,” said the 
King. 

Rischenheim looked up. Rudolf’s voice had 
once been so like the King’s that no man could 
tell the difference, but in the last year or two the 
King’s had grown weaker, and Rischenheim 
seemed to be struck by the vigour of the tones 
in which he was addressed. As he looked up, 
there was a slight movement in the curtains by 
him ; it died away when the Count gave no fur- 
ther signs of suspicion, but Rudolf had noticed 
his surprise : the voice, when it next spoke, was 
subdued. 


76 


AN AUDIENCE OF THE KING 


“ Most delighted,” pursued Mr. Rassendyll. 
“ For I am pestered beyond endurance about 
those dogs. I can’t get the coats right. I’ve 
tried everything, but they won’t come as I wish. 
Now yours are magnificent.” 

“ You are very good, sire. But I ventured to 

ask an audience in order to ” 

“ Positively you must tell me about the dogs. 
And before Sapt comes, for I want nobody to 
hear but myself.” 

“ Your Majesty expects Colonel Sapt? ” 

“ In about twenty minutes,” said the King, 
with a glance at the clock on the mantelpiece. 

At this Rischenheim became all on fire to get 
his errand done before Sapt appeared. 

“ The coats of your dogs,” pursued the King, 

“ grow so beautifully ” 

“ A thousand pardons, sire, but ” 

“ Long and silky, that I despair of ” 

“ I have a most urgent and important matter,” 
persisted Rischenheim in agony. 

Rudolf threw himself back in his chair with a 
peevish air. 

“ Well, if you must, you must. What is this 
great affair, Count? Let us have it over, and 
then you can tell me about the dogs.” 

Rischenheim looked round the room. There 
was nobody ; the curtains were still ; the King’s 

left hand caressed his beardless chin ; the right 
6 77 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


was hidden from his visitor by the small table 
that stood between them. 

“ Sire, my cousin, the Count of Hentzau, has 
entrusted me with a message.” 

Rudolf suddenly assumed a stern air. 

“ I can hold no communication, directly or in- 
directly, with the Count of Hentzau,” said he. 

“ Pardon me, sire, pardon me. A document 
has come into the Count’s hands which is of vital 
importance to your Majesty.” 

“ The Count of Hentzau, my lord, has incurred 
my heaviest displeasure.” 

“ Sire, it is in the hopes of atoning for his of- 
fences that he has sent me here to-day. There 
is a conspiracy against your Majesty’s honour.” 

“ By whom, my lord ? ” asked Rudolf in cold 
and doubting tones. 

“ By those who are very near your Majesty’s 
person and very high in your Majesty’s love.” 

“ Name them.” 

“ Sire, I dare not. You would not believe me. 
But your Majesty will believe written evidence.” 

“ Show it me, and quickly. We may be inter- 
rupted.” 

“ Sire, I have a copy ” 

“ Oh, a copy, my lord ? ” sneered Rudolf. 

“ My cousin has the original, and will forward 
it at your Majesty’s command. A copy of a let- 
ter of Her Majesty’s.” 


78 


AN AUDIENCE OF THE KING 


“ Of the Queen’s ? ” 

“ Yes, sire. It is addressed to ” 

Rischenheim paused. 

“ Well, my lord, to whom ? ” 

“ To a Mr. Rudolf Rassendyll.” 

Now Rudolf played his part well. He did not 
feign indifference, but allowed his voice to trem- 
ble with emotion as he stretched out his hand 
and said in a hoarse whisper : 

“ Give it me, give it me.” 

Rischenheim’s eyes sparkled. His shot had 
told : the King’s attention was his, the coats of 
the dogs were forgotten. Plainly he had stirred 
the suspicions and jealousy of the King. 

“ My cousin,” he continued, “ conceives it his 
duty to lay the letter before your Majesty. He 
obtained it ” 

“ A curse on how he got it ! Give it me.” 

Rischenheim unbuttoned his coat, then his 
waistcoat. The head of a revolver showed in a 
belt round his waist. He undid the flap of a 
pocket in the lining of his waistcoat, and began 
to draw out a sheet of paper. 

But Rudolf, great as his powers of self-control 
were, was but human. When he saw the paper, 
he leant forward, half rising from his chair. As 
a result, his face came beyond the shadow of the 
curtain, and the full morning light beat on it. 

As Rischenheim took the paper out, he looked 

79 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


up. He saw the face that glared so eagerly at 
him ; his eyes met Rassendyll’s : a sudden suspi- 
cion seized him, for the face, though the King’s 
face in every feature, bore a stern resolution and 
witnessed a vigour that were not the King’s. In 
that instant the truth, or a hint of it, flashed 
across his mind. He gave a half-articulate cry ; 
in one hand he crumpled up the paper, the other 
flew to his revolver. But he was too late. Ru- 
dolf’s left hand encircled his hand and the paper 
in an iron grip ; Rudolf s revolver was on his 
temple ; and an arm was stretched out from be- 
hind the curtain, holding another barrel full be- 
fore his eyes, while a dry voice said : “ You’d best 
take it quietly.” Then Sapt stepped out. 

Rischenheim had no words to meet the sud- 
den transformation of the interview. He seemed 
to be able to do nothing but stare at Rudolf 
Rassendyll. Sapt wasted no time. He snatched 
the Count’s revolver and stowed it in his own 
pocket. 

“ Now take the paper,” said he to Rudolf, and 
his barrel held Rischenheim motionless while 
Rudolf wrenched the precious document from 
his fingers. “ Look if it’s the right one. No, 
don’t read it through; just look. Is it right? 
That’s good. Now put your revolver to his head 
again. I’m going to search him. Stand up, sir 1 ” 

They compelled the Count to stand up, and 

80 


AN AUDIENCE OF THE KING 


Sapt subjected him to a search that made the 
concealment of another copy, or of any other doc- 
ument, impossible. Then they let him sit down 
again. His eyes seemed fascinated by Rudolf 
Rassendyll. 

“ Yet you’ve seen me before, I think,” smiled 
Rudolf. “ I seem to remember you as a boy in 
Strelsau when I was there. Now tell us, sir, 
where did you leave this cousin of yours ? ” For 
the plan was to find out from Rischenheim where 
Rupert was, and to set off in pursuit of Rupert 
as soon as they had disposed of Rischenheim. 

But even as Rudolf spoke there was a violent 
knock at the door. Rudolf sprang to open it. 
Sapt and his revolver kept their places. Bernen- 
stein was on the threshold, open-mouthed. 

“The King’s servant has just gone by. He’s 
looking for Colonel Sapt. The King has been 
walking in the drive, and learnt from a sentry of 
Rischenheim’s arrival. I told the man that you 
had taken the Count for a stroll round the Castle, 
and I did not know where you were. He says 
that the King may come himself at any moment.” 

Sapt considered for one short instant ; then he 
was back by the prisoner’s side. 

“We must talk again later on,” he said, in low 
quick tones. “ Now you’re going to breakfast 
with the King. I shall be there, and Bernen- 

stein. Remember, not a word of your errand, 

81 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


not a word of this gentleman ! At a word, a 
sign, a hint, a gesture, a motion, as God lives, 1 11 
put a bullet through your head, and a thousand 
kings sha’n’t stop me. Rudolf, get behind the 
curtain. If there’s an alarm you must jump 
through the window into the moat and swim 
for it.” 

“ All right,” said Rudolf Rassendyll. “ I can 
read my letter there.” 

“ Burn it, you fool ! ” 

“ When I’ve read it I’ll eat it, if you like, but 
not before.” 

Bernenstein looked in again. 

“ Quick, quick ! The man will be back,” he 
whispered. 

“ Bernenstein, did you hear what I said to the 
Count ? ” 

“ Yes, I heard.” 

“ Then you know your part. Now, gentle- 
men, to the King.” 

“ Well,” said an angry voice outside, “ I 
wondered how long I was to be kept waiting.” 

Rudolf Rassendyll skipped behind the cur- 
tain. S apt’s revolver slipped into a handy pocket. 
Rischenheim stood with arms dangling by his 
side and his waistcoat half unbuttoned. Young 
Bernenstein was bowing low on the threshold, 
and protesting that the King’s servant had but 

just gone, and that they were on the point of 

82 


AN AUDIENCE OF THE KING 




waiting on his Majesty. Then the King walked 
in, pale and full-bearded. 

“Ah, Count,” said he, “I’m glad to see you. 
If they had told me you were here, you shouldn’t 
have waited a minute. You’re very dark in here, 
Sapt. Why don’t you draw back the curtains?” 
and the King moved towards the curtain behind 
which Rudolf was. 

“ Allow me, sire,” cried Sapt, darting past him 
and laying a hand on the curtain. 

A malicious gleam of pleasure shot into Risch- 
enheim’s eyes. 

“ In truth, sire,” continued the Constable, his 
hand on the curtain, “ we were so interested in 
what the Count was saying about his dogs ” 

“By heaven, I forgot !” cried the King. “ Yes, 
yes, the dogs. Now tell me, Count ” 

“Your pardon, sire,” put in young Bernen- 
stein, “ but breakfast waits.” 

“Yes, yes. Well, then, we’ll have them to- 
gether — breakfast and the dogs. Come along, 
Count.” The King passed his arm through 
Rischenheim’s, adding to Bernenstein, “ Lead 
the way, Lieutenant ; and you, Colonel, come 
with us.” 

They went out. Sapt stopped and locked the 
door behind him. 

“ Why do you lock the door, Colonel ? ” asked 
the King. 


83 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ There are some papers in my drawer there, 

* 55 

sire. 

“ But why not lock the drawer ? ” 

“ I have lost the key, sire, like the fool I am,” 
said the Colonel. 

The Count of Luzau-Rischenheim did not 
make a very good breakfast. He sat opposite 
to the King. Colonel Sapt placed himself at 
the back of the King’s chair, and Rischenheim 
saw the muzzle of a revolver resting on the top 
of the chair just behind his Majesty’s right ear. 
Bernenstein stood in soldierly rigidity by the 
door ; Rischenheim looked round at him once, 
and met a most significant gaze. 

“ You’re eating nothing,” said the King. “ I 
hope you’re not indisposed ? ” 

“ I am a little upset, sire,” stammered Rischen- 
heim, and truly enough. 

“Well, tell me about the dogs while I eat; 
for I’m hungry.” 

Rischenheim began to disclose his secret. His 
statement was decidedly wanting in clearness. 
The King grew impatient. 

“ I don’t understand,” said he testily, and he 
pushed his chair back so quickly that Sapt skipped 
away, and hid the revolver behind his back. 

“ Sire ” cried Rischenheim, half rising. A 

cough from Lieutenant von Bernenstein inter- 
rupted him. 


84 


AN AUDIENCE OF THE KING 


“ Tell it me all over again,” said the King. 

Rischenheim did as he was bid. 

“ Ah, I understand a little better now. Do 
you see, Sapt ? ” and he turned his head round 
towards the Constable. Sapt had just time to 
whisk the revolver away. The Count leant for- 
ward towards the King. Lieutenant von Bernen- 
stein coughed. The Count sank back again. 

“ Perfectly, sire,” said Colonel Sapt. “ I 
understand all the Count wishes to convey to 
your Majesty.” 

“ Well, I understand about half,” said the King 
with a laugh. “ But perhaps that’ll be enough.” 

“ I think quite enough, sire,” answered Sapt 
with a smile. 

The important matter of the dogs being thus 
disposed of, the King recollected that the Count 
had asked for an audience on a matter of busi- 
ness. 

“Now what did you wish to say to me? ” he 
asked with a weary air. The dogs had been 
more interesting. 

Rischenheim looked at Sapt. The revolver 
was in its place ; Bernenstein coughed again. 
Yet he saw a chance. 

“ Your pardon, sire,” said he, “ but we are not 
alone.” 

The King lifted his eyebrows. 

“ Is the business so private? ” he asked. 

85 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ I should prefer to tell it to your Majesty 
alone,” pleaded the Count. 

Now Sapt was resolved not to leave Rischen- 
heim alone with the King, for although the 
Count, being robbed of his evidence, could do 
little harm concerning the letter, he would 
doubtless tell the King that Rudolf Rassendyll 
was in the Castle. He leant now over the 
King’s shoulder, and said with a sneer : 

“ Messages from Rupert of Hentzau are too 
exalted matters for my poor ears, it seems.” 

The King flushed red. 

“ Is that your business, my lord ? ” he asked 
Rischenheim sternly. 

“Your Majesty does not know what my 
cousin ” 

“It is the old plea ? ” interrupted the King. 
“He wants to come back? Is that all, or is 
there anything else ? ” 

A moment’s silence followed the King’s words. 
Sapt looked full at Rischenheim, and smiled as 
he slightly raised his right hand and showed the 
revolver. Bernenstein coughed twice. Risch- 
enheim sat twisting his fingers. He under- 
stood that, cost what it might, they would not 
let him declare his errand to the King or betray 
Mr. Rassendyll’s presence. He cleared his 
throat and opened his mouth as if to speak ; but 
still he remained silent. 


86 


AN AUDIENCE OF THE KING 

“ Well, my lord, is it the old story or some- 
thing new ? ” asked the King impatiently. 

Again Rischenheim sat silent. 

“ Are you dumb, my lord ? ” cried the King 
most impatiently. 

“ It — it is — only what you call the old story, 

• 95 

sire. 

“ Then let me say that you have treated me 
very badly in obtaining an audience of me for 
any such purpose,” said the King. “You knew 
my decision, and your cousin knows it.” 

Thus speaking the King rose ; S apt’s revolver 
slid into his pocket ; but Lieutenant von Ber- 
nenstein drew his sword and stood at the salute ; 
he also coughed. 

“ My dear Rischenheim,” pursued the King 
more kindly, “ I can allow for your natural 
affection. But, believe me, in this case it mis- 
leads you. Do me the favour not to open this 
subject again to me.” 

Rischenheim, humiliated and angry, could do 
nothing but bow in acknowledgment of the 
King’s rebuke. 

“ Colonel Sapt, see that the Count is well 
entertained. My horse should be at the door by 
now. Farewell, Count. Bernenstein, give me 
your arm.” 

Bernenstein shot a rapid glance at the Con- 
stable. Sapt nodded reassuringly. Bernenstein 

87 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


sheathed his sword and gave his arm to the 
King. They passed through the door, and Ber- 
nenstein closed it with a backward push of his 
hand. But at this moment Rischenheim, goaded 
to fury and desperate at the trick played on him 
— seeing, moreover, that he had now only one 
man to deal with — made a sudden rush at the 
door. He reached it, and his hand was on the 
door-knob. But Sapt was upon him, and Sapt’s 
revolver was at his ear. 

In the passage the King stopped. 

“ What are they doing in there ? ” he asked, 
hearing the noise of the quick movements. 

“ I don’t know, sire,” said Bernenstein, and he 
took a step forward. 

“No, stop a minute, Lieutenant: you’re pull- 
ing me along ! ” 

“ A thousand pardons, sire.” 

“ I hear nothing more now.” And there was 
nothing to hear, for the two now stood dead 
silent inside the door. 

“Nor I, sire. Will your Majesty go on?” 
And Bernenstein took another step. 

“You’re determined I shall,” said the King 
with a laugh, and he let the young officer lead 
him away. 

Inside the room, Rischenheim stood with his 
back against the door. He was panting for 

breath, and his face was flushed and working 

88 


AN AUDIENCE OF THE KING 


with excitement. Opposite to him stood Sapt, 
revolver in hand. 

‘‘Till you get to heaven, my lord,” said the 
Constable, “ you’ll never be nearer to it than you 
were in that moment. If you had opened the 
door, I’d have shot you through the head.” 

As he spoke there came a knock at the door. 

“ Open it,” he said brusquely to Rischenheim. 
With a muttered curse the Count obeyed him. 
A servant stood outside with a telegram on a 
salver. “ Take it,” whispered Sapt, and Risch- 
enheim put out his hand. 

“ Your pardon, my lord, but this has arrived 
for you,” said the man respectfully. 

“ Take it,” whispered Sapt again. 

“ Give it me,” muttered Rischenheim con- 
fusedly ; and he took the envelope. 

The servant bowed and shut the door. 

“ Open it,” commanded Sapt. 

“ God’s curse on you ! ” cried Rischenheim, in 
a voice that choked with passion. 

“ Eh ? Oh, you can have no secrets from so 
good a friend as I am, my lord. Be quick and 
open it.” 

The Count began to open it. 

“ If you tear it up or crumple it, I’ll shoot you,” 
said Sapt quietly. “You know you can trust 
my word. Now read it.” 

“ By God, I won’t read it ! ” 

89 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ Read it, I tell you, or say your prayers.” 

The muzzle was within a foot of his head. He 
unfolded the telegram. Then he looked at Sapt. 

“ Read,” said the Constable. 

“ I don’t understand what it means,” grumbled 
Rischenheim. 

“ Possibly I may be able to help you.” 

“ It’s nothing but ” 

“ Read, my lord, read ! ” 

Then he read, and this was the telegram : 

“ Holf, 19*Konigstrasse.” 

“ A thousand thanks, my lord. And the place 
it’s despatched from ? ” 

“ Strelsau.” 

“Just turn it so that I can see. Oh, I don’t 
doubt you, but seeing is believing. Ah, thanks. 
It’s as you say. You’re puzzled what it means, 
Count ? ” 

“ I don’t know at all what it means.” 

“ How strange ! Because I can guess so well.” 

“ You are very acute, sir.” 

“ It seems to me a simple thing to guess, my 
lord.” 

“ And pray,” said Rischenheim, endeavouring 
to assume an easy and sarcastic air, “ what does 
your wisdom tell you that the message means ? ” 

“ I think, my lord, that the message is an ad- 
dress.” 


90 


AN AUDIENCE OF THE KING 


“ An address ! I never thought of that. But 
I know no Holf.” 

“ I don’t think it’s Holf’s address.” 

“ Whose then ? ” asked Rischenheim, biting 
his nail, and looking furtively at the Constable. 

“ Why,” said Sapt, “ the present address of 
Count Rupert of Hentzau.” 

As he spoke, he fixed his eyes on the eyes of 
Rischenheim. He gave a short sharp laugh, then 
put his revolver in his pocket and bowed to the 
Count. 

“In truth, you are very convenient, my dear 
Count,” said he. 


91 


CHAPTER VI 


THE TASK OF THE QUEEN’S SERVANTS 

The doctor who had attended me at Winten- 
berg was not only discreet, but also indulgent : 
perhaps he had the sense to see that little benefit 
would come to a sick man from fretting in help- 
lessness on his back, when he was on fire to be 
afoot. I fear he thought the baker’s rolling-pin 
was in my mind, but at any rate I extorted a 
consent from him, and was on my way home 
from Wintenberg not much more than twelve 
hours after Rudolf Rassendyll left me. Thus I 
arrived at my own house in Strelsau on the same 
Friday morning that witnessed the Count of 
Luzau-Rischenheim’s twofold interview with the 
King at the Castle of Zenda. The moment I had 
arrived, I set James, whose assistance had been, 
and continued to be, in all respects most valua- 
ble, to despatch a message to the Constable, ac- 
quainting him with my whereabouts and putting 
myself entirely at his disposal. Sapt received 
this message while a council of war was being 
held, and the information it gave aided not a little 
in the arrangements that the Constable and Ru- 
dolf Rassendyll made. What these were I must 

92 


TASK OF THE QUEENS SERVANTS 


now relate, although, I fear, at the risk of some 
tediousness. 

Yet that council of war in Zenda was held 
under no common circumstances. Cowed as 
Rischenheim appeared, they dared not let him 
out of their sight ; Rudolf could not leave the 
room into which Sapt had locked him ; the 
King’s absence was to be short, and before he 
came again Rudolf must be gone, Rischenheim 
safely disposed of, and measures taken against 
the original letter reaching the hands for which 
the intercepted copy had been destined. The 
room was a large one. In the corner farthest 
from the door sat Rischenheim, disarmed, dis- 
pirited, to all seeming ready to throw up his dan- 
gerous game and acquiesce in any terms pre- 
sented to him. Just inside the door, guarding 
it, if need should be, with their lives, were the 
other three, Bernenstein merry and triumphant, 
Sapt blunt and cool, Rudolf calm and clear- 
headed. The Queen awaited the result of their 
deliberations in her apartments, ready to act as 
they directed, but determined to see Rudolf be- 
fore he left the Castle. They conversed together 
in low tones. Presently Sapt took paper and 
wrote. This first message was to me, and it 
bade me come to Zenda that afternoon ; another 
head and another pair of hands were sadly needed. 

Then followed more deliberation ; Rudolf took 

7 93 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


up the talking now, for his was the bold plan on 
which they consulted. Sapt twirled his mous- 
tache, smiling doubtfully. 

“ Yes, yes,” murmured young Bernenstein, his 
eyes alight with excitement. 

“ It’s dangerous, but the best thing,” said Ru- 
dolf, carefully sinking his voice yet lower, lest 
the prisoner should catch the lightest word of 
what he said. “ It involves my staying here till 
the evening. Is that possible ? ” 

“No; but you can leave here and hide in the 
forest till I join you,” said Sapt. 

“ Till we join you,” corrected Bernenstein 
eagerly. 

“No,” said the Constable, “ you must look af- 
ter our friend here. Come, Lieutenant, it’s all 
in the Queen’s service.” 

“ Besides,” added Rudolf with a smile, “ nei- 
ther the Colonel nor I would let you have a 
chance at Rupert. He’s our game, isn’t he, 
Sapt ? ” 

The Colonel nodded. Rudolf in his turn 
took paper, and here is the message that he 
wrote : 

“ Holf, 19 Konigstrasse, Strelsau. — All well. He 
has what I had, but wishes to see what you have. He 
and I will be at the hunting-lodge at ten this evening. 
Bring it and meet us. The business is unsuspected. 
— L-R.” 


94 


TASK OF THE QUEEN S SERVANTS 


Rudolf flung the paper across to Sapt ; Bernen- 
stein leant over the Constable’s shoulder and 
read it eagerly. 

“ I doubt if it would bring me,” grinned old 
Sapt, throwing the paper down. 

“ It’ll bring Rupert of Hentzau. Why not ? 
He’ll know that the King will wish to meet him 
unknown to the Queen, and also unknown to you, 
Sapt, since you were my friend : what place more 
likely for the King to choose than his hunting- 
lodge, where he is accustomed to go when he 
wishes to be alone ? The message will bring him, 
depend on it. Why, man, Rupert would come 
even if he suspected ; and why should he sus- 
pect ? ” 

“ They may have a cipher, he and Rischen- 
heim,” objected Sapt. 

“ No, or Rupert would have sent the address 
in it,” retorted Rudolf quickly. 

“ Then — when he comes ? ” asked Bernenstein. 

“ He finds such a king as Rischenheim found, 
and Sapt, here, at his elbow.” 

“ But he’ll know you,” objected Bernenstein. 

“ Aye, I think he’ll know me,” said Rudolf with 
a smile. “ Meanwhile we send for Fritz to come 
here and look after the King.” 

“ And Rischenheim ? ” 

“ That’s your share, Lieutenant. Sapt, is any 
one at Tarlenheim ? ” 


95 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“No. Count Stanislas has put it at Fritz’s 
disposal.” 

“ Good ; then Fritz’s two friends, the Count of 
Luzau-Rischenheim and Lieutenant von Bernen- 
stein, will ride over there to-day. The Constable 
of Zenda will give the Lieutenant twenty-four 
hours’ leave of absence, and the two gentlemen 
will pass the day and sleep at the chateau. They 
will pass the day side by side, Bernenstein, not 
losing sight of one another for an instant, and 
they will pass the night in the same room. And 
one of them will not close his eyes nor take his 
hand off the butt of his revolver.” 

“ Very good, sir,” said young Bernenstein. 

“ If he tries to escape or give any alarm, shoot 
him through the head, ride to the frontier, get to 
safe hiding, and, if you can, let us know.” 

“ Yes,” said Bernenstein simply. Sapt had 
chosen well, and the young officer made nothing 
of the peril and ruin that Her Majesty’s service 
might ask of him. 

A restless movement and a weary sigh from 
Rischenheim attracted their attention. He had 
strained his ears to listen till his head ached, but 
the talkers had been careful and he had heard 
nothing that threw light on their deliberations. 
He had now given up his vain attempt, and sat 
in listless inattention, sunk in an apathy. 

“ I don’t think he’ll give you much trouble,” 

96 


TASK OF THE QUEEN S SERVANTS 


whispered Sapt to Rernenstein, with a jerk of his 
thumb towards the captive. 

“ Act as if he were likely to give you much,” 
urged Rudolf, laying his hand on the Lieutenant’s 
arm. 

“ Yes, that’s a wise man’s advice,” nodded the 
Constable approvingly. “ We were well gov- 
erned, Lieutenant, when this Rudolf was king.” 

“Wasn’t I also his loyal subject?” asked 
young Bernenstein. 

“Yes, wounded in my service,” added Rudolf; 
for he remembered how the boy — he was little 
more then — had been fired upon in the park of 
Tarlenheim, being taken for Mr. Rassendyll 
himself. 

Thus their plans were laid. If they could 
defeat Rupert, they would have Rischenheim at 
their mercy. If they could keep Rischenheim 
out of the way while they used his name in 
their trick, they had a strong chance of deluding 
and killing Rupert. Yes, of killing him ; for 
that and nothing less was their purpose, as the 
Constable of Zenda himself had told me. 

“ We would have stood on no ceremony,” he 
said. “ The Queen’s honour was at stake, and 
the fellow himself an assassin.” 

Bernenstein rose and went out. He was gone 
about half an hour, being employed in despatch- 
ing the telegrams to Strelsau. Rudolf and Sapt 

97 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


used the interval to explain to Rischenheim what 
they proposed to do with him. They asked no 
pledge and he offered none. He heard what 
they said with a dull uninterested air. When 
asked if he would go without resistance, he 
laughed a bitter laugh. 

“ How can I resist ? ” he asked. “ I should 
have a bullet through my head.” 

“ Why, without doubt,” said Colonel Sapt. 
“ My lord, you are very sensible.” 

“ Let me advise you, my lord,” said Rudolf, 
looking down on him kindly enough, “ if you 
come safe through this affair, to add honour to 
your prudence, and chivalry to your honour. 
There is still time for you to become a gentle- 
man.” 

He turned away, followed by a glance of anger 
from the Count and a grating chuckle from old 
Sapt. 

A few moments later Bernenstein returned. 
His errand was done, and horses for himself and 
Rischenheim were at the gate of the Castle. 
After a few final words and a clasp of the hand 
from Rudolf, the Lieutenant motioned to his 
prisoner to accompany him, and they two walked 
out together, being to all appearance willing 
companions and in perfect friendliness with one 
another. The Queen herself watched them go 

from the windows of her apartment, and noticed 

98 


TASK OF THE QUEEN S SERVANTS 


that Bernenstein rode half a pace behind, and 
that his free hand rested on the revolver by his 
side. 

It was now well on in the morning, and the risk 
of Rudolf’s sojourn in the Castle grew greater 
with every moment. Yet he was resolved to see 
the Queen before he went. This interview pre- 
sented no great difficulties, since Her Majesty was 
in the habit of coming to the Constable’s room to 
take his advice or to consult with him. The 
hardest task was to contrive afterward a free 
and unnoticed escape for Mr. Rassendyll. To 
meet this necessity, the Constable issued orders 
that the company of Guards which garrisoned the 
Castle should parade at one o’clock in the park, 
and that the servants should all, after their dinner, 
be granted permission to watch the manoeuvres. 
By this means he counted on drawing off any 
curious eyes and allowing Rudolf to reach the 
forest unobserved. They appointed a rendezvous 
in a handy and sheltered spot ; the one thing 
which they were compelled to trust to fortune 
was Rudolf’s success in evading chance encoun- 
ters while he waited. Mr. Rassendyll himself 
was confident of his ability to conceal his pres- 
ence, or, if need were, so to hide his face that no 
strange tale of the King being seen wandering 
alone and beardless should reach the ears of the 

Castle or the town. 

1. of C. 99 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


While Sapt was making his arrangements, 
Queen Flavia came to the room where Rudolf 
Rassendyll was. It was then nearing twelve, 
and young Bernenstein had been gone half an 
hour. Sapt attended her to the door, set a sentry 
at the end of the passage with orders that Her 
Majesty should on no pretence be disturbed, 
promised her very audibly to return as soon as 
he possibly could, and respectfully closed the 
door after she had entered. The Constable was 
well aware of the value in a secret business of 
doing openly all that can safely be done with 
openness. 

All of what passed at that interview I do not 
know, but a part Queen Flavia herself told to 
me, or rather to Helga, my wife ; for although it 
was meant to reach my ear, yet to me, a man, she 
would not disclose it directly. First she learnt 
from Mr. Rassendyll the plans that had been 
made, and, although she trembled at the danger 
that he must run in meeting Rupert of Hentzau, 
she had such love of him and such a trust in his 
powers that she seemed to doubt little of his suc- 
cess. But she began to reproach herself for hav- 
ing brought him into this peril by writing her 
letter. At this he took from his pocket the copy 
that Rischenheim had carried. He had found 
time to read it, and now before her eyes he 
kissed it. 


100 


TASK OF THE QUEENS SERVANTS 


“ Had I as many lives as there are words, my 
Queen,” he said softly, “ for each word I would 
gladly give a life.” 

“Ah, Rudolf, but you’ve only one life, and 
that more mine than yours. Did you think we 
should ever meet again ? ” 

“ I didn’t know,” said he ; and now they were 
standing opposite one another. 

“ But I knew,” she said, her eyes shining 
brightly ; “ I knew always that we should meet 
once more. Not how, nor where, but just that 
we should. So I lived, Rudolf.” 

“ God bless you,” he said. 

“ Yes, I lived through it all.” 

He pressed her hand, knowing what that phrase 
meant and must mean for her. 

“ Will it last for ever ? ” she asked, suddenly 
gripping his hand tightly. But a moment later 
she went on : “No, no, I mustn’t make you un- 
happy, Rudolf. I’m half glad I wrote the letter, 
and half glad they stole it. It’s so sweet to have 
you fighting for me, for me only this time, 
Rudolf — not for the King, for me ! ” 

“ Sweet indeed, my dearest lady. Don’t be 
afraid; we shall win.” 

“You will win, yes. And then you’ll go?” 
And, dropping his hands, she covered her face 
with hers. 

“ I mustn’t kiss your face,” said he, “ but your 

101 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


hands I may kiss,” and he kissed her hands as 
they were pressed against her face. 

“You wear my ring,” she murmured through 
her fingers, “ always ? ” 

“ Why, yes,” he said, with a little laugh of 
wonder at her question. 

“ And there is — no one else ? ” 

“ My Queen ! ” said he, laughing again. 

“No, I knew really, Rudolf, 1 knew really,” 
and now her hands flew out towards him, implor- 
ing his pardon. Then she began to speak quickly : 
“ Rudolf, last night I had a dream about you, a 
strange dream. I seemed to be in Strelsau, and 
all the people were talking about the King. It 
was you they meant; you were the King. At 
last you were the King, and I was your Queen. 
But I could see you only very dimly ; you were 
somewhere, but I could not make out where ; 
just sometimes your face came. Then I tried to 
tell you that you were King — yes, and Colonel 
Sapt and Fritz tried to tell you ; the people, too, 
called out that you were King. What did it 
mean ? But your face, when I saw it, was un- 
moved and very pale, and you seemed not to 
hear what we said, not even what I said. It 
almost seemed as if you were dead, and yet King. 
Ah, you mustn’t die, even to be King,” and she 
laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“ Sweetheart,” said he gently, “in dreams desires 

102 


TASK OF THE QUEENS SERVANTS 

and fears blend in strange visions, so I seemed to 
you to be both a king and a dead man ; but I’m 
not a king, and I am a very healthy fellow. Yet 
a thousand thanks to my dearest Queen for 
dreaming of me.” 

“No, but what could it mean?” she asked 
again. 

“ What does it mean when I dream always of 
you, except that I always love you ? ” 

“ Was it only that?” she said, still unconvinced. 

What more passed between them I do not 
know. I think that the Queen told my wife 
more, but women will sometimes keep women’s 
secrets even from their husbands ; though they 
love us, yet we are always in some sort the com- 
mon enemy, against whom they join hands. 
Well, I would not look too far into such secrets, 
for to know must be, I suppose, to blame, and 
who is himself so blameless that in such a case 
he would be free with his censures ? 

Yet much cannot have passed, for almost close 
on their talk about the dream came Colonel Sapt, 
saying that the Guards were in line, and all the 
women streamed out to watch them, while the 
men followed, lest the gay uniforms should make 
them forgotten. Certainly a quiet fell over the 
old Castle, that only the Constable’s curt tones 
broke, as he bade Rudolf come by the back way 

to the stables and mount his horse. 

103 


✓ 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

“ There’s no time to lose,” said Sapt, and his 
eye seemed to grudge the Queen even one word 
more with the man she loved. 

But Rudolf was not to be hurried into leaving 
her in such a fashion. He clapped the Constable 
on the shoulder, laughing and bidding him 
think of what he would for a moment ; then 
he went again to the Queen and would have 
knelt before her, but that she would not suffer, 
and they stood with hands locked. Then sud- 
denly she drew him to her and kissed his forehead, 
saying : 

“ God go with you, Rudolf my knight.” 

Thus she turned away, letting him go. He 
walked towards the door. But a sound arrested 
his steps, and he waited in the middle of the 
room, his eyes on the door. Old Sapt flew to 
the threshold, his sword half-way out of its 
sheath. There was a step coming down the 
passage, and the feet stopped outside the door. 

“ Is it the King ? ” whispered Rudolf. 

“ I don’t know,” said Sapt. 

“No, it’s not the King,” came in unhesitating 
certainty from Queen Flavia. 

They waited : a low knock sounded on the 
door. Still for a moment they waited. The 
knock was repeated urgently. 

“ We must open,” said Sapt. “ Behind the 
curtain with you, Rudolf ! ” 

104 


TASK OF THE QUEENS SERVANTS 


The Queen sat down and Sapt piled a heap of 
papers before her, that it might seem as though 
he and she transacted business. But his precau- 
tions were interrupted by a hoarse, eager, low 
cry from outside : 

“ Quick, in God’s name, quick ! ” 

They knew the voice for Bernenstein’s. The 
Queen sprang up, Rudolf came out, Sapt turned 
the key. The Lieutenant entered, hurried, 
breathless, pale. 

“ Well ? ” asked Sapt. 

4 4 He has got away ? ” cried Rudolf, guessing 
in a moment the misfortune that had brought 
Bernenstein back. 

44 Yes, he’s got away. Just as we left the 
town and reached the open road towards Tarlen- 
heim, he said, 4 Are we going to walk all the 
way ? ’ I was not loth to go quicker, and we 
broke into a trot. But I — ah, what a pestilent 
fool I am ! ” 

44 Never mind that, — go on.” 

44 Why, I was thinking of him and my task, 
and having a bullet ready for him, and ” 

44 Of everything except your horse ? ” guessed 
Sapt, with a grim smile. 

“Yes; and the horse pecked and stumbled, 
and I fell forward on his neck. I put out my 
arm to recover myself, and — I jerked my revol- 
ver on to the ground.” 


105 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ And he saw ? ” 

“He saw, curse him! For a second he 
waited ; then he smiled, and turned, and dug his 
spurs in and was off, straight across country 
towards Strelsau. Well, I was off my horse in 
a moment, and I fired three times after him.” 

“ You hit ? ” asked Rudolf. 

“ I think so. He shifted the reins from one 
hand to the other and wrung his arm. I 
mounted and made after him, but his horse was 
better than mine and he gained ground. We 
began to meet people too, and I didn’t dare to 
fire again. So I left him and rode here to tell 
you. Never employ me again, Constable, as 
long as you live,” and the young man’s face was 
twisted with misery and shame as, forgetting the 
Queen’s presence, he sank despondently into a 
chair. 

Sapt took no notice of his self-reproaches. But 
Rudolf went and laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“ It was an accident,” he said. “ No blame to 
you.” 

The Queen rose and walked towards him ; 
Bernenstein sprang to his feet. 

“ Sir,” said she, “ it is not success but effort 
that should gain thanks,” and she held out her 
hand. 

Well, he was young ; I do not laugh at the 

sob that escaped his lips as he turned his head. 

106 


I 

/ 


TASK OF THE QUEEN S SERVANTS 

“ Let me try something else,” he implored. 

“ Mr. Rassendyll,” said the Queen, “ you’ll do 
my pleasure by employing this gentleman in my 
further service. I am already deep in his debt, 
and would be deeper.” 

There was a moment’s silence. 

“ Well, but what’s to be done ? ” asked 
Colonel Sapt. “ He’s gone to Strelsau.” 

“ He’ll stop Rupert,” mused Mr. Rassendyll. 

“ He may or he mayn’t.” 

“ It’s odds that he will.” 

“ We must provide for both.” 

Sapt and Rudolf looked at one another. 

“You must be here?” asked Rudolf of the 
Constable. “Well, I’ll go to Strelsau.” His 
smile broke out. “ That is, if Bernenstein ’ll 
lend me a hat.” 

The Queen made no sound ; but she came 
and laid her hand on his arm. He looked at 
her, smiling still. 

“Yes, I’ll go to Strelsau,” said he, “and I’ll 
find Rupert, aye, and Rischenheim too, if they’re 
in the city.” 

“ Take me with you,” cried Bernenstein 
eagerly. 

Rudolf glanced at Sapt. The Constable 
shook his head. Bernenstein’s face fell. 

“ It’s not that, boy,” said old Sapt, half in 

kindness, half in impatience. “ W e want you 

107 




RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


here. Suppose Rupert comes here with Risch- 
enheim ! ” 

The idea was new, but the event by no means 
unlikely. 

“ But you’ll be here, Constable,” urged Ber- 
nenstein, “and Fritz von Tarlenheim will arrive 
in an hour.” 

“Aye, young man,” said Sapt, nodding his 
head ; “ but when I fight Rupert of Hentzau, I 
like to have a man to spare,” and he grinned 
broadly, being no whit afraid of what Bernen- 
stein might think of his courage. “ Now go and 
get him a hat,” he added, and the Lieutenant 
ran off on the errand. 

But the Queen cried : 

“ Are you sending Rudolf alone, then — alone 
against two ? ” 

“Yes, madame, if I may command the cam- 
paign,” said Sapt. “ I take it he should be equal 
to the task.” 

He could not know the feelings of the 
Queen’s heart. She dashed her hand across 
her eyes and turned in mute entreaty to Ru- 
dolf Rassendyll. 

“ I must go,” he said softly. “ We can’t spare 
Bernenstein, and I mustn’t stay here.” 

She said no more. Rudolf walked across to 
Sapt. 

“ Take me to the stables. Is the horse good ? 

108 


TASK OF THE QUEENS SERVANTS 


I daren’t take the train. Ah, here’s the Lieuten- 
ant and the hat.” 

“ The horse’ll get you there to-night,” said 
Sapt. “ Come along. Bernenstein, stay with 
the Queen.” 

At the threshold Rudolf paused and, turning 
his head, glanced once at Queen Flavia, who 
stood still as a statue, watching him go. Then 
he followed the Constable, who brought him 
where the horse was. Sapt’s devices for securing 
freedom from observation had served well, and 
Rudolf mounted unmolested. 

“ The hat doesn’t fit very well,” said Rudolf. 

“ Like a crown better, eh ? ” suggested the 
Colonel. 

Rudolf laughed as he asked : 

“ Well, what are my orders ? ” 

“ Ride round by the moat to the road at the 
back ; then through the forest to Hofbau ; you 
know your way after that. You mustn’t reach 
Strelsau till it’s dark. Then, if you want a shel- 
ter ” 

“ To Fritz von Tarlenheim’s, yes ! From 
there I shall go straight to the address.” 

“ Aye. And Rudolf ! ” 

- Yes ? ” 

“ Make an end of him this time.” 

“ Please God. But if he goes to the lodge ? 

He will unless Rischenheim stops him.” 

8 109 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ I’ll be there in case, but I think Rischenheim 
will stop him.” 

“ If he comes here ? ” 

“Young Bernenstein will die before he allows 
him to reach the King.” 

“ Sapt ! ” 

“ Aye ? ” 

“ Be kind to her.” 

“ Bless the man, yes ! ” 

“ Good-bye.” 

“ And good-luck.” 

At a swift canter Rudolf darted round the 
drive that led from the stables, by the moat, to 
the old forest road behind ; five minutes brought 
him within the shelter of the trees, and he rode on 
confidently, meeting nobody, save here and there 
a yokel, who, seeing a man ride hard with his 
head averted, took no more notice of him than to 
wish that he himself could ride abroad instead of 
being bound to work. Thus Rudolf Rassendyll 
set out again for the walls of Strelsau, through 
the forest of Zenda, and ahead of him, with an 
hour’s start, galloped the Count of Luzau -Risch- 
enheim, again a man, and a man with resolution, 
resentment, and revenge in his heart. 

The game was afoot now ; who could tell the 
issue of it ? 


no 


CHAPTER VII 


THE MESSAGE OF SIMON THE HUNTSMAN 

I received the telegram sent to me by the Con- 
stable of Zenda at my own house in Strelsau 
about one o’clock. It is needless to say that I 
made immediate preparations to obey the sum- 
mons. My wife indeed protested — and I must 
admit with some show of reason — that I was un- 
fit to endure fatigues, and that my bed was the 
only proper place for me. I could not listen ; 
and James, Mr. Rassendyll’s servant, being in- 
formed of the message, was at my elbow with a 
card of the trains from Strelsau to Zenda, with- 
out waiting for any order from me. I had talked 
to this man in the course of our journey, and dis- 
covered that he had been in the service of Lord 
Topham, formerly British Ambassador to the 
Court of Ruritania. How far he was acquainted 
with the secrets of his present master I did not 
know, but his familiarity with the city and the 
country made him of great use to me. We 
discovered, to our annoyance, that no train 
left till four o’clock, and then only a slow one ; 
the result being that we could not arrive at 

the Castle till past six o’clock. This hour was 

ill 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


not absolutely too late, but I was of course 
eager to be on the scene of action as early as 
possible. 

“ You’d better see if you can get a special, my 
lord,” James suggested ; “ I’ll run on to the sta- 
tion and arrange about it.” 

I agreed. Since I was known to be often 
employed in the King’s service, I could take a 
special train without exciting remark. James 
set out, and about a quarter of an hour later I 
got into my carriage to drive to the station. 
Just as the horses were about to start, however, 
the butler approached me. 

“ I beg your pardon, my lord,” said he, “ but 
Bauer didn’t return with your lordship. Is he 
coming back ? ” 

“No,” said I. “Bauer was grossly imperti- 
nent on the journey, and I dismissed him.” 

“ Those foreign men are never to be trusted, 
my lord. And your lordship’s bag ? ” 

“What, hasn’t it come?” I cried. “I told 
him to send it.” 

“ It’s not arrived, my lord.” 

“ Can the rogue have stolen it ? ” I exclaimed 
indignantly. 

“ If your lordship wishes it, I will mention the 
matter to the police.” 

I appeared to consider this proposal. 

“Wait till I come back,” I ended by saying. 

112 


THE MESSAGE OF SIMON 


“ The bag may come, and I have no reason to 
doubt the fellow’s honesty.” 

This, I thought, would be the end of my con- 
nection with Master Bauer. He had served Ru- 
pert’s turn, and would now disappear from the 
scene. Indeed it may be that Rupert would 
have liked to dispense with further aid from him ; 
but he had few whom he could trust, and was 
compelled to employ those few more than once. 
At any rate he had not done with Bauer, and I 
very soon received proof of the fact. My house 
is a couple of miles from the station, and we had 
to pass through a considerable part of the old 
town, where the streets are narrow and tortuous 
and progress necessarily slow. We had just 
entered the Konigstrasse (and it must be remem- 
bered that I had at that time no reason for attach- 
ing any special significance to this locality), and 
were waiting impatiently for a heavy dray to 
move out of our path, when my coachman, who 
had overheard the butler’s conversation with me, 
leant down from his box with an air of lively ex- 
citement. 

“ My lord,” he cried, “ there’s Bauer — there, 
passing the butcher’s shop ! ” 

I sprang up in the carriage ; the man’s back 
was towards me, and he was threading his way 
through the people with a quick stealthy tread. 

I believe he must have seen me and was slinking 

113 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


off as fast as he could. I was not sure of him, 
but the coachman banished my doubt by saying: 
“ It’s Bauer — it’s certainly Bauer, my lord.” 

I hardly stayed to form a resolution. If I 
could catch this fellow or even see where he 
went, a most important clue as to Rupert’s do- 
ings and whereabouts might be put into my 
hand. I leapt out of the carriage, bidding the 
man wait, and at once started in pursuit of my 
former servant. I heard the coachman laugh : 
he thought, no doubt, that anxiety for the miss- 
ing bag inspired such eager haste. 

The numbers of the houses in the Konigstrasse 
begin, as anybody familiar with Strelsau will re- 
member, at the end adjoining the station. The 
street being a long one, intersecting almost the 
entire length of the old town, I was, when I set 
out after Bauer, opposite number three hundred 
or thereabouts, and distant nearly three-quarters 
of a mile from that important number nineteen, 
towards which Bauer was hurrying like a rabbit 
to its burrow. I knew nothing and thought 
nothing of where he was going ; to me nineteen 
was no more than eighteen or twenty ; my only 
desire was to overtake him. I had no clear idea 
of what I meant to do when I caught him, but 
I had some hazy notion of intimidating him into 
giving up his secret by the threat of an accusa- 
tion of theft. In fact he had stolen my bag. 

114 


THE MESSAGE OF SIMON 


After him I went ; and he knew that I was after 
him. I saw him turn his face over his shoulder, 
and then bustle on faster. Neither of us, pur- 
sued or pursuer, dared quite to run ; as it was, 
our eager strides and our carelessness of collisions 
created more than enough attention. But I had 
one advantage. Most folk in Strelsau knew me, 
and many got out of my way who were by no 
means inclined to pay a like civility to Bauer. 
Thus I began to gain on him, in spite of his haste ; 
I had started fifty yards behind, but as we neared 
the end of the street and saw the station ahead 
of us, not more than twenty separated me from 
him. Then an annoying thing happened. I ran 
full into a stout old gentleman ; Bauer had run 
into him before, and he was standing, as people 
will, staring in resentful astonishment at his first 
assailant’s retreating figure. The second collision 
immensely increased his vexation : for me it had 
yet worse consequences ; for when I disentangled 
myself, Bauer was gone ! There was not a sign 
of him ; I looked up : the number of the house 
above me was twenty-three ; but the door was 
shut. I walked on a few paces, past twenty- two, 
past twenty-one — and up to nineteen. N ineteen 
was an old house, with a dirty dilapidated front 
and an air almost dissipated. It was a shop 
where provisions of the cheaper sort were on view 

in the window, things that one has never eaten 

115 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


but has heard of people eating. The shop-door 
stood open, but there was nothing to connect 
Bauer with the house. Muttering an oath in my 
exasperation, I was about to pass on, when an 
old woman put her head out of the door and 
looked round. I was full in front of her. I am 
sure that the old woman started slightly, and I 
think that I did. For I knew her, and she knew 
me. She was old mother Holf, one of whose 
sons, Johann, had betrayed to us the secret of the 
dungeon at Zenda, while the other had died by 
Mr. Rassendyll’s hand by the side of the great 
pipe that masked the Kings window. Her pres- 
ence might mean nothing, yet it seemed to con- 
nect the house at once with the secret of the past 
and the crisis of the present. 

She recovered herself in a moment, and curt- 
seyed to me. 

“ Ah, mother Holf,” said I, “ how long is it 
since you set up shop in Strelsau ? ” 

“ About six months, my lord,” she answered, 
with a composed air and arms akimbo. 

“ I have not come across you before,” said I, 
looking keenly at her. 

“ Such a poor little shop as mine would not be 
likely to secure your lordship’s patronage,” she 
answered, in a humility that seemed only half 
genuine. 

I looked up at the windows. They were all 

116 


THE MESSAGE OF SIMON 


closed and had their wooden lattices shut. The 
house was devoid of any signs of life. 

“ You’ve a good house here, mother, though it 
wants a splash of paint,” said I. “ Do you live 
all alone in it with your daughter? ” For Max 
was dead and Johann abroad, and the old woman 
had, as far as I knew, no other children. 

“ Sometimes, sometimes not,” said she. “ I let 
lodgings to single men when I can.” 

“ Full now ? ” 

“ Not a soul, worse luck, my lord.” 

Then I shot an arrow at a venture. 

“ The man who came in just now, then, was 
he only a customer ? ” 

“ I wish a customer had come in, but there 
has been nobody,” she replied in surprised tones. 

I looked full in her eyes ; she met mine with a 
blinking imperturbability. There is no face so 
inscrutable as a clever old woman’s when she is 
on her guard. And her fat body barred the 
entrance ; I could not so much as see inside, 
while the window, choked full with pigs’ trotters 
and such-like dainties, helped me very little. If 
the fox were there, he had got to earth and I 
could not dig him out. 

At this moment I saw James approaching 
hurriedly. He was looking up the street, no 
doubt seeking my carriage and chafing at its 

delay. An instant later he saw me. 

117 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ My lord,” he said, “ your train will be ready 
in five minutes ; if it doesn’t start then, the line 
must be closed for another half-hour.” 

I perceived a faint smile on the old woman’s 
face. I was sure then that I was on the track of 
Bauer, and probably of more than Bauer. But 
my first duty was to obey orders and get to 
Zenda. Besides I could not force my way in 
there in open daylight, without a scandal that 
would have set all the long ears in Strelsau 
aprick. I turned away reluctantly. I did not 
even know for certain that Bauer was within, 
and thus had no information of value to carry 
with me. 

“ If your lordship would kindly recommend 
me ” said the old hag. 

“ Yes, I’ll recommend you,” said I. “ I’ll rec- 
ommend you to be careful whom you take for 
lodgers. There are queer fish about, mother.” 

“ I take the money beforehand,” she retorted 
with a grin ; and I was as sure that she was in 
the plot as of my own existence. 

There was nothing to be done ; James’s face 
urged me towards the station. I turned away. 
But at this instant a loud merry laugh sounded 
from inside the house. I started, and this time 
violently. The old woman’s brow contracted in 
a frown, and her lips twitched for a moment ; then 

her face regained its composure ; but I knew the 

118 


THE MESSAGE OF SIMON 


laugh, and she must have guessed that I knew it. 
Instantly I tried to appear as though I had 
noticed nothing. I nodded to her carelessly, and 
bidding James follow me set out for the station. 
But as we reached the platform, I laid my hand 
on his shoulder, saying : 

“ The Count of Hentzau is in that house, 
James.” 

He looked at me without surprise ; he was as 
hard to stir to wonder as old Sapt himself. 

“ Indeed, sir. Shall I stay and watch ? ” 

“ No, come with me,” I answered. To tell the 
truth, I thought that to leave him alone in Strel- 
sau to watch that house was in all likelihood to 
sign his death-warrant, and I shrank from im- 
posing the duty on him. Rudolf might send 
him if he would ; I dared not. So we got into 
our train, and I suppose that my coachman, when 
he had looked long enough for me, went home. 
I forgot to ask him afterward. Very likely he 
thought it a fine joke to see his master hunting 
a truant servant and a truant bag through the 
streets in broad daylight. Had he known the 
truth, he would have been as interested, though, 
maybe, less amused. 

“ I arrived at the town of Zenda at half-past 
three, and was in the Castle before four. I may 
pass over the most kind and gracious words with 

which the Queen received me. Every sight of 

119 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


her face and every sound of her voice bound a 
man closer to her service, and now she made me 
feel that I was a poor fellow to have lost her 
letter and yet to be alive. But she would hear 
nothing of such talk, choosing rather to praise 
the little I had done than to blame the great 
thing in which I had failed. Dismissed from her 
presence, I flew open-mouthed to Sapt. I found 
him in his room with Bernenstein, and had the 
satisfaction of learning that my news of Rupert’s 
whereabouts was confirmed by his information. 
I was also made acquainted with all that had 
been done, even as I have already related it, from 
the first successful trick played on Rischenheim 
to the moment of his unfortunate escape. But 
my face grew long and apprehensive when I 
heard that Rudolf Rassendyll had gone alone to 
Strelsau to put his head in that lion’s mouth in 
the Konigstrasse. 

“ There will be three of them there — Rupert, 
Rischenheim, and my rascal Bauer,” said I. 

“ As to Rupert we don’t know,” Sapt reminded 
me. “ He’ll be there if Rischenheim arrives in 
time to tell him the truth. But we have also to 
be ready for him here, and at the hunting-lodge. 
Well, we’re ready for him wherever he is : Rudolf 
will be in Strelsau, you and I will ride to the 
lodge, and Bernenstein will be here with the 
Queen.” 


» 


120 


THE MESSAGE OF SIMON 


“ Only one here ? ” I asked. 

“ Aye, but a good one,” said the Constable, 
clapping Bernenstein on the shoulder. “We 
shan’t be gone above four hours, and those while 
the King is safe in his bed. Bernenstein has only 
to refuse access to him, and stand to that with his 
life till we come back. You’re equal to that, eh, 
Lieutenant ? ” 

I am by nature a cautious man, and prone to 
look at the dark side of every prospect and the 
risks of every enterprise ; but I could not see 
what better dispositions were possible against the 
attack that threatened us. Yet I was sorely 
uneasy concerning Mr. Rassendyll. 

Now, after all our stir and runnings to and fro, 
came an hour or two of peace. We employed 
the time in having a good meal, and it was past 
five when, our repast finished, we sat back in our 
chairs enjoying cigars. James had waited on us, 
quietly usurping the office of the Constable’s 
own servant, and thus we had been able to talk 
freely. The man’s calm confidence in his master 
and his master’s fortune also went far to com- 
fort me. 

“ The King should be back soon,” said Sapt 
at last, with a glance at his big old-fashioned sil- 
ver watch. “ Thank God, he’ll be too tired to sit 
up long. We shall be free by nine o’clock, Fritz. 

I wish young Bupert would come to the lodge ! ” 

121 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


And the Colonel’s face expressed a lively pleasure 
at the idea. 

Six o’clock struck and the King did not appear. 
A few moments later a message came from the 
Queen, requesting our presence on the terrace in 
front of the chateau. The place commanded a 
view of the road by which the King would ride 
back, and we found the Queen walking restlessly 
up and down, considerably disquieted by the 
lateness of his return. In such a position as ours 
every unusual or unforeseen incident magnifies its 
possible meaning and invests itself with a sinister 
importance which would at ordinary times seem 
absurd. We three shared the Queen’s feelings, 
and forgetting the many chances of the chase, any 
one of which would amply account for the King’s 
delay, fell to speculating on remote possibilities of 
disaster. He might have met Rischenheim — 
though they had ridden in opposite directions ; 
Rupert might have intercepted him — though no 
known means could have brought Rupert to the 
forest so early. Our fears defeated common 
sense, and our conjectures outran possibility. 
Sapt was the first to recover from this foolish 
mood, and he rated us soundly, not sparing even 
the Queen herself. With a laugh we regained 
some of our equanimity, and felt rather ashamed 
of our weakness. 

“ Still it’s strange that he doesn’t come,” mur- 

122 


THE MESSAGE OF SIMON 


mured the Queen, shading her eyes with her 
hand, and looking along the road to where the 
dark masses of the forest trees bounded our view. 
It was already dusk, but not so dark but that we 
could have seen the King’s party as soon as it 
came into the open. 

If the King’s delay seemed strange at six, it was 
stranger at seven, and by eight most strange. We 
had long since ceased to talk lightly ; by now we 
had lapsed into silence. Sapt’s scoldings had died 
away. The Queen, wrapped in her furs (for it 
was very cold), sat sometimes on a seat, but 
oftener paced restlessly to and fro. Evening had 
fallen. We did not know what to do, nor even 
whether we ought to do anything. Sapt would 
not own to sharing our worst apprehensions, but 
his gloomy silence in face of our surmises wit- 
nessed that he was in his heart as disturbed as we 
were. F or my part I had come to the end of my 
endurance, and I cried : 

“ For God’s sake let’s act ! Shall I go and seek 
him ? ” 

“ A needle in a bundle of hay ! ” said Sapt with 
a shrug. 

But at this moment my ear caught the sound 
of horses cantering on the road from the forest ; 
at the same instant Bernenstein cried, “ Here 
they come ! ” The Queen paused, and we gath- 
ered round her. The horse- hoofs came nearer. 

123 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


Now we made out the figures of three men : they 
were the King’s huntsmen, and they rode along 
merrily, singing a hunting chorus. The sound of 
it brought relief to us ; so far at least there was 
no disaster. But why was not the King with 
them ? 

“The King is probably tired, and is following 
more slowly, madame,” suggested Bernenstein. 

This explanation seemed very probable, and 
the Lieutenant and I, as ready to be hopeful on 
slight grounds as fearful on small provocation, 
joyfully accepted it. Sapt, less easily turned to 
either mood, said, “Aye, but let us hear,” and 
raising his voice, called to the huntsmen, who had 
now arrived in the avenue. One of them, the 
King’s chief huntsman, Simon, gorgeous in his 
uniform of green and gold, came swaggering 
along, and bowed low to the Queen. 

“ Well, Simon, where is the King? ” she asked, 
trying to smile. 

“ The King, madame, has sent a message by me 
to your Majesty.” 

“ Pray, deliver it to me, Simon.” 

“ I will, madame. The King has enjoyed fine 
sport, and, indeed, madame, if I may say so, for 
myself, a better run ” 

“You may say, friend Simon,” interrupted the 
Constable, tapping him on the shoulder, “ any- 
thing you like for yourself, but, as a matter 

124 


THE MESSAGE OF SIMON 

of etiquette, the King’s message should come 
first.” 

“Oh, aye, Constable,” said Simon. “You’re 
always so down on a man, aren’t you? Well, 
then, madame, the King has enjoyed fine sport. 
For we started a boar at eleven, and ” 

“ Is this the King’s message, Simon ? ” asked 
the Queen, smiling in genuine amusement, but 
impatiently. 

“ Why, no, madame, not precisely his Maj- 
esty’s message.” 

“ Then get to it, man, in Heaven’s name,” 
growled Sapt testily. For here were we four (the 
Queen, too, one of us !) on tenterhooks, while 
the fool boasted about the sport that he had 
shown the King. For every boar in the forest 
Simon took as much credit as though he, and not 
Almighty God, had made the animal. It is the 
way with such fellows. 

Simon became a little confused under the com- 
bined influence of his own seductive memories 
and Sapt’s brusque exhortations. 

“As I was saying, madame,” he resumed, “the 
boar led us a long way, but at last the hounds 
pulled him down, and his Majesty himself gave 
the coup de grace. Well, then it was very 
late ” 

“ It’s no earlier now,” grumbled the Constable. 

“ And the King, although indeed, madame, his 
9 125 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


Majesty was so gracious as to say that no hunts- 
man whom his Majesty had ever had had given 
his Majesty ” 

“ God help us ! ” groaned the Constable. 

Simon shot an apprehensive, apologetic glance 
at Colonel Sapt. The Constable was frowning 
ferociously. In spite of the serious matters in 
hand I could not forbear a smile, while young 
Bernenstein broke into an audible laugh, which 
he tried to smother with his hand. 

“ Yes, the King was very tired, Simon? ” said 
the Queen, at once encouraging him, and bring- 
ing him back to the point with a woman’s skill. 

“ Yes, madame, the King was very tired; and as 
we chanced to kill near the hunting-lodge ” 

I do not know whether Simon noticed any 
change in the manner of his audience. But the 
Queen looked up with parted lips, and I believe 
that we three all drew a step nearer to him. 
Sapt did not interrupt this time. 

“ Yes, madame, the King was very tired, and as 
we chanced to kill near the hunting-lodge, the 
King bade us carry our quarry there, and come 
back to dress it to-morrow ; so we obeyed, and 
here we are — that is, except Herbert, my brother, 
who stayed with the King by his Majesty’s or- 
ders. Because, madame, Herbert is a handy fel- 
low, and my good mother taught him to cook a 
steak and ” 


126 


{ 

/ 

I 

THE MESSAGE OF SIMON 

“ Stayed where with the King ? ” roared Sapt. 

“ Why, at the hunting-lodge, Constable. The 
King stays there to-night, and will ride back to- 
morrow morning with Herbert. That, madame, 
is the Kings message.” 

We had come to it at last, and it was some- 
thing to come to. Simon gazed from face to 
face. I saw him, and I understood at once that 
our feelings must be speaking too plainly. So I 
took on myself to dismiss him, saying : 

“ Thanks, Simon, thanks ; we understand.” 

He bowed to the Queen ; she roused herself, 
and added her thanks to mine. Simon withdrew, 
looking still a little puzzled. After we were left 
alone, there was a moment’s silence. Then I 
said : 

“ Suppose Rupert ” 

The Constable of Zenda broke in with a short 
laugh. 

“On my life,” said he, “how things fall out! 
We say he will go to the hunting-lodge, and — he 

i 

goes ! 

“ If Rupert goes — if Rischenheim doesn’t stop 
him ! ” I urged again. 

The Queen rose from her seat and stretched 
out her hands towards us. 

“ Gentlemen, my letter ! ” said she. 

Sapt wasted no time. 

“ Bernenstein,” said he, “ you stay here as we 

127 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


arranged. Nothing is altered. Horses for Fritz 
and myself in five minutes.” 

Bernenstein turned and shot like an arrow 
along the terrace towards the stables. 

“ Nothing is altered, madame,” said Sapt, “ ex- 
cept that we must be there before Count Ru- 
pert.” 

I looked at my watch. It was twenty min- 
utes past nine. Simon’s cursed chatter had lost 
a quarter of an hour. I opened my lips to 
speak. A glance from Sapt’s eyes told me that 
he discerned what I was about to say. I was 
silent. 

“ Y ou’ll be in time ? ” asked the Queen, with 
clasped hands and frightened eyes. 

“ Assuredly, madame,” returned Sapt with a 
bow. 

“ You won’t let him reach the King? ” 

“ Why, no, madame,” said Sapt with a smile. 

“ From my heart, gentlemen,” she said in a 
trembling voice, “ from my heart ” 

“ Here are the horses,” cried Sapt. He snatched 
her hand, brushed it with his grizzly moustache, 
and — well, I am not sure I heard, and I can 
hardly believe what I think I heard. But I will 
set it down for what it is worth. I think he 
said, “ Bless your sweet face, we’ll do it.” At 
any rate she drew back with a little cry of sur- 
prise, and I saw the tears standing in her eyes. 

128 




THE MESSAGE OF SIMON 


I kissed her hand also ; then we mounted, and 
we started, and we rode, as if the devil were be- 
hind us, for the hunting-lodge. 

But I turned once to watch her standing on 
the terrace, with young Bernenstein’s tall figure 
beside her. 

“ Can we be in time ? ” said I. It was what 
I had meant to say before. 

“ 1 think not, but, by God, we’ll try,” said 
Colonel Sapt. 

And I knew why he had not let me speak. 

Suddenly there was a sound behind us of a 
horse at the gallop. Our heads flew round in 
the ready apprehension of men on a perilous 
errand. The hoofs drew near, for the unknown 
rode with reckless haste. 

“We had best see what it is,” said the Con- 
stable, pulling up. 

A second more, and the horseman was beside 
us. Sapt swore an oath, half in amusement, half 
in vexation. 

“ Why, is it you, James ? ” I cried. 

“ Yes, sir,” answered Rudolf Rassendyll’s ser- 
vant. 

“ What the devil do you want ? ” asked Sapt. 

“ I came to attend on the Count von Tarlen- 
heim, sir.” 

“ I did not give you any orders, James.” 

“ No, sir. But Mr. Rassendyll told me not to 

129 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


leave you, unless you sent me away. So I made 
haste to follow you.” 

Then Sapt cried : “ Deuce take it, what horse 
is that ? ” 

“ The best in the stables, so far as I could see, 
sir. I was afraid of not overtaking you.” 

Sapt tugged his moustaches, scowled, but 
finally laughed. 

“ Much obliged for your compliment,” said he. 
“ The horse is mine.” 

“ Indeed, sir ? ” said James with respectful in- 
terest. 

For a moment we were all silent. Then Sapt 
laughed again. 

“ Forward ! ” said he, and the three of us 
dashed into the forest. 


130 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE TEMPER OF BORIS THE HOUND 

ft 

Looking back now, in the light of the informa- 
tion I have gathered, I am able to trace very 
clearly, and almost hour by hour, the events of 
this day, and to understand how chance, laying 
hold of our cunning plan and mocking our wili- 
ness, twisted and turned our device to a prede- 
termined but undreamt-of issue, of which we were 
most guiltless in thought or intent. Had the 
King not gone to the hunting-lodge, our design 
would have found the fulfilment we looked for ; 
had Rischenheim succeeded in warning Rupert of 
Hentzau, we should have stood where we were. 
Fate or fortune would have it otherwise. The 
King, being weary, went to the lodge, and Risch- 
enheim failed in warning his cousin. It was a 
narrow failure, for Rupert, as his laugh told me, 
was in the house in the Konigstrasse when -I set 
out from Strelsau, and Rischenheim arrived there 
at half-past four. He had taken the train at a 
roadside station, and thus easily outstripped Mr. 
Rassendyll, who, not daring to show his face, 
was forced to ride all the way and enter the city 

under cover of night. But Rischenheim had 

131 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

not dared to send a warning, for he knew that 
we were in possession of the address and did not 
know what steps we might have taken to inter- 
cept messages. Therefore he was obliged to 
carry the news himself ; when he came his man 
was gone. Indeed Rupert must have left the 
house almost immediately after I was safe away 
from the city. He was determined to be in good 
time for his appointment ; his only enemies were 
not in Strelsau ; there was no warrant on which 
he could be apprehended ; and, although his con- 
nection with Black Michael was a matter of pop- 
ular gossip, he felt himself safe from arrest by 
virtue of the secret that protected him. Accord- 
ingly he walked out of the house, went to the 
station, took his ticket to Hofbau, and, travel- 
ling by the four o’clock train, reached his destina- 
tion about half-past five. He must have passed 
the train in which Rischenheim travelled ; the 
first news the latter had of his departure was 
from a porter at the station, who, having recog- 
nized the Count of Hentzau, ventured to con- 
gratulate Rischenheim on his cousin’s return. 
Rischenheim made no answer, but hurried in 
great agitation to the house in the Konigstrasse, 
where the old woman Holf confirmed the tidings. 
Then he passed through a period of great irreso- 
lution. Loyalty to Rupert urged that he should 

follow him and share the perils into which his 

132 


TEMPER OF BORIS THE HOUND 


cousin was hastening. But caution whispered 
that he was not irrevocably committed, that 
nothing overt yet connected him with Rupert’s 
schemes, and that we who knew the truth should 
be well content to purchase his silence as to the 
trick we had played by granting him immunity. 
His fears won the day, and, like the irresolute 
man he was, he determined to wait in Strelsau, 
till he heard the issue of the meeting at the 
lodge. If Rupert were disposed of there, he had 
something to offer us in return for peace ; if his 
cousin escaped, he would be in the Konigstrasse, 
prepared to second the further plans of the des- 
perate adventurer. In any event his skin was 
safe, and I presume to think that this weighed a 
little with him ; for excuse he had the wound 
which Bernenstein had given him, and which ren- 
dered his right arm entirely useless ; had he gone 
then, he would have been a most inefficient ally. 

Of all this we, as we rode through the forest, 
knew nothing. We might guess, conjecture, 
hope, or fear ; but our certain knowledge stopped 
with Rischenheim’s start for the capital and Ru- 
pert’s presence there at three o’clock. The pair 
might have met or might have missed. We had 
to act as though they had missed and Rupert 
were gone to meet the King. But we were late. 
The consciousness of that pressed upon us, al- 
though we evaded further mention of it ; it made 

133 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


us spur and drive our horses as quickly, aye, and 
a little more quickly, than safety allowed. Once 
James’s horse stumbled in the darkness and its 
rider was thrown ; more than once a low bough 
hanging over the path nearly swept me, dead or 
stunned, from my seat. Sapt paid no attention to 
these mishaps or threatened mishaps. He had 
taken the lead, and, sitting well down in his sad- 
dle, rode ahead, turning neither to right nor left, 
never slackening his pace, sparing neither him- 
self nor his beast. James and I were side by 
side behind him. We rode in silence, finding 
nothing to say to one another. My mind was 
full of a picture — the picture of Rupert with his 
easy smile handing to the King the Queen’s let- 
ter. For the hour of the rendezvous was past. 
If that image had been translated into reality, 
what must we do ? To kill Rupert would sat- 
isfy revenge, but of what other avail would it be 
when the King had read the letter ? I am 
ashamed to say that I found myself girding at 
Mr. Rassendyll for happening on a plan which 
the course of events had turned into a trap for 
ourselves and not for Rupert of Hentzau. 

Suddenly Sapt, turning his head for the first 
time, pointed in front of him. The lodge was 
before us ; we saw it looming dimly a quarter of 
a mile off. Sapt reined in his horse, and we fol- 
lowed his example. All dismounted, we tied our 

134 


TEMPER OF BORIS THE HOUND 


horses to trees and went forward at a quick, 
silent walk. Our idea was that Sapt should en- 
ter on pretext of having been sent by the Queen 
to attend to her husband’s comfort, and arrange 
for his return without further fatigue next day. 
If Rupert had come and gone, the King’s de- 
meanour would probably betray the fact ; if he 
had not yet come, I and James, patrolling out- 
side, would bar his passage. There was a third 
possibility ; he might be even now with the 
King. Our course in such a case we left unset- 
tled ; so far as I had any plan, it was to kill Ru- 
pert and try to convince the King that the letter 
was a forgery — a desperate hope, so desperate 
that we turned our eyes away from the possibil- 
ity which would make it our only resource. 

We were now very near the hunting-lodge, 
being about forty yards from the front of it. All 
at once Sapt threw himself on his stomach on the 
ground. 

“ Give me a match,” he whispered. 

James struck a light, and, the night being still, 
the flame burnt brightly ; it showed us the mark 
of a horse’s hoof, apparently quite fresh, and lead- 
ing away from the lodge. We rose and went on, 
following the tracks by the aid of more matches 
till we reached a tree twenty yards from the door. 
Here the hoof-marks ceased ; but beyond there 

was a double track of human feet in the soft black 

135 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


earth ; a man had gone thence to the house and 
returned from the house thither. On the right 
of the tree were more hoof-marks, leading up to 
it and then ceasing. A man had ridden up from 
the right, dismounted, gone on foot to the house, 
returned to the tree, remounted, and ridden away 
along the track by which we had approached. 

“ It may be somebody else,” said I ; but I do 
not think that we any of us doubted in our hearts 
that the tracks were made by the coming of 
Hentzau. Then the King had the letter ; the 
mischief was done. We were too late. 

Yet we did not hesitate. Since disaster had 
come, it must be faced. Mr. Rassendyll’s servant 
and I followed the Constable of Zenda up to the 
door, or within a few feet of it. Here Sapt, who 
was in uniform, loosened his sword in its sheath ; 
James and I looked to our revolvers. There 
were no lights visible in the lodge ; the door 
was shut ; everything was still. Sapt knocked 
softly with his knuckles, but there was no answer 
from within. He laid hold of the handle and 
turned it ; the door opened, and the passage lay 
dark and apparently empty before us. 

“ You stay here, as we arranged,” whispered the 
Colonel. “ Give me the matches, and I’ll go in.” 

James handed him the box of matches, and he 
crossed the threshold. For a yard or two we 

saw him plainly, then his figure grew dim and 

136 


TEMPER OF BORIS THE HOUND 


indistinct. I heard nothing except my own hard 
breathing. But in a moment there was another 
sound — a muffled exclamation, and a noise of a 
man stumbling ; a sword, too, clattered on the 
stones of the passage. We looked at one an- 
other ; the noise did not produce any answering 
stir in the house ; then came the sharp little ex- 
plosion of a match struck on its box ; next we 
heard Sapt raising himself, his scabbard scraping 
along the stones ; his footsteps came towards us, 
and in a second he appeared at the door. 

“ What was it ? ” I whispered. 

“ I fell,” said Sapt. 

“ Over what ? ” 

“ Come and see. James, stay here.” 

I followed the Constable for the distance of 
eight or ten feet along the passage. 

“ Isn’t there a lamp anywhere ? ” I asked. 

“We can see enough with a match,” he an- 
swered. “ Here, this is what I fell over.” 

Even before the match was struck I saw a 
dark body lying across the passage. 

“ A dead man ! ” I guessed instantly. 

“Why, no,” said Sapt, striking a light; “a 
dead dog, Fritz.” 

An exclamation of wonder escaped me as I 
fell on my knees. At the same instant Sapt 
muttered, “ Ay, there’s a lamp,” and, stretching 

up his hand to a little oil lamp that stood on a 

137 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


bracket, he lit it, took it down, and held it over 
the body. It served to give a fair, though un- 
steady, light, and enabled us to see what lay in 
the passage. 

“ It’s Boris, the boar-hound,” said I, still in a 
whisper, although there was no sign of any 
listeners. 

I knew the dog well ; he was the King’s favour- 
ite, and always accompanied him when he went 
hunting. He was obedient to every word of the 
King’s, but of a rather uncertain temper towards 
the rest of the world. However, de mortuis nil 
nisi bonum ; there he lay dead in the passage. 
Sapt put his hand on the beast’s head. There 
was a bullet-hole right through his forehead. I 
nodded, and in my turn pointed to the dog’s 
right shoulder, which was shattered by another 
ball. 

“ And see here,” said the Constable. “ Have 
a pull at this.” 

I looked where his hand now was. In the 
dog’s mouth was a piece of grey cloth, and on 
the piece of grey cloth was a horn coat-button. 
I took hold of the cloth and pulled. Boris held 
on even in death. Sapt drew his sword, and, in- 
serting the point of it between the dog’s teeth, 
parted them enough for me to draw out the piece 
of cloth. 

“You’d better put it in your pocket,” said the 

138 


TEMPER OF BORIS THE HOUND 

Constable. “Now come along;” and, holding 
the lamp in one hand and his sword (which he 
did not resheath) in the other, he stepped over the 
body of the boar-hound, and I followed him. 

We were now in front of the door of the room 
where Rudolf Rassendyll had supped with us 
on the day of his first coming to Ruritania, and 
whence he had set out to be crowned in Strelsau. 
On the right of it was the room where the King 
slept, and farther along in the same direction the 
kitchen and the cellars. The officer or officers 
in attendance on the King used to sleep on the 
other side of the dining-room. 

“ We must explore, I suppose,” said Sapt. In 
spite of his outward calmness, I caught in his 
voice the ring of excitement rising and ill-re- 
pressed. But at this moment we heard from the 
passage on our left (as we faced the door) a low 
moan, and then a dragging sound, as if a man 
were crawling along the floor, painfully trailing 
his limbs after him. Sapt held the lamp in that 
direction, and we saw Herbert the forester, pale- 
faced and wide-eyed, raised from the ground on 
his two hands, while his legs stretched behind 
him and his stomach rested on the flags. 

“ Who is it ? ” he said in a faint voice. 

“ Why, man, you know us,” said the Consta- 
ble, stepping up to him. “What’s happened 
here ? ” 


139 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


The poor fellow was very faint, and, I think, 
wandered a little in his brain. 

“ I’ve got it, sir,” he murmured, “ I’ve got it, 
fair and straight. No more hunting for me, sir. 
I’ve got it here in the stomach. Oh, my God ! ” 
He let his head fall with a thud on the floor. 

I ran and raised him. Kneeling on one knee, 
I propped his head against my leg. 

“ Tell us about it,” commanded Sapt in a curt, 
crisp voice, while I got the man into the easiest 
position that I could contrive. 

In slow, struggling tones he began his story, 
repeating here, omitting there, often confusing 
the order of his narrative, oftener still arresting 
it while he waited for fresh strength. Yet we 
were not impatient, but heard without a thought 
of time. I looked round once at a sound, and 
found that James, anxious about us, had stolen 
along the passage and joined us. Sapt took no 
notice of him, nor of anything save the words that 
dropped in irregular utterance from the stricken 
man’s lips. Here is the story, a strange instance 
of the turning of a great event on a small cause. 

The King had eaten a little supper, and, having 
gone to his bedroom, had stretched himself on 
the bed and fallen asleep without undressing. 
Herbert was clearing the dining-table and per- 
forming similar duties, when suddenly (thus he 

told it) he found a man standing beside him. He 

MO 


TEMPER OF BORIS THE HOUND 


did not know (he was new to the King’s service) 
who the unexpected visitor was, but he was of 
middle height, dark, handsome, and “ looked like 
a gentleman all over.” He was dressed in a 
shooting-tunic, and a revolver was thrust through 
the belt of it. One hand rested on the belt, 
while the other held a small square box. 

“ Tell the King I am here. He expects me,” 
said the stranger. 

Herbert, alarmed at the suddenness and silence 
of the intruder’s approach, and guiltily conscious 
of having left the door unbolted, drew back. He 
was unarmed, but, being a stout fellow, was pre- 
pared to defend his master as best he could. 
Rupert — beyond doubt it was Rupert — laughed 
lightly, saying again, “ Man, he expects me. Go 
and tell him,” and sat himself on the table, swing- 
ing his leg. Herbert, influenced by the visitor’s 
air of command, began to retreat towards the 
bedroom, keeping his face towards Rupert. “If 
the King asks more, tell him I have the packet 
and the letter,” said Rupert. The man bowed 
and passed into the bedroom. The King was 
asleep ; when roused he seemed to know noth- 
ing of letter or packet, and to expect no visitor. 
Herbert’s ready fears revived ; he whispered that 
the stranger carried a revolver. Whatever the 
King’s faults might be — and God forbid that I 

should speak hardly of him whom fate used so 
10 141 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


hardly ! — he was no coward. He sprang from his 
bed ; at the same moment the great boar-hound 
uncoiled himself and came from beneath, yawn- 
ing and fawning. But in an instant the beast 
caught the scent of a stranger : his ears pricked 
and he gave a low growl, as he looked up in his 
master’s face. Then Rupert of Hentzau, weary 
perhaps of waiting, perhaps only doubtful whether 
his message would be properly delivered, appeared 
in the doorway. 

The King was unarmed, and Herbert in no 
better plight ; their hunting weapons were in the 
adjoining room, and Rupert seemed to bar the 
way. I have said that the King was no coward, 
yet I think that the sight of Rupert, bringing 
back the memory of his torments in the dungeon, 
half cowed him ; for he shrank back crying, 
“You!” The hound, in subtle understanding 
of his master’s movement, growled angrily. 

“ You expected me, sire ? ” said Rupert with 
a bow ; but he smiled. I know that the sight of 
the King’s alarm pleased him. To inspire terror 
was his delight, and it does not come to every 
man to strike fear into the heart of a king and an 
Elphberg. It had come more than once to 
Rupert of Hentzau. 

“ No,” muttered the King. Then, recovering 
his composure a little, he said angrily, “ How 
dare you come here ? ” 


142 


TEMPER OF BORIS THE HOUND 


“You didn’t expect me?” cried Rupert, and 
in an instant the thought of a trap seemed to 
flash across his alert mind. He drew the revolver 
half-way from his belt, probably in a scarcely 
conscious movement born of the desire to assure 
himself of its presence. With a cry of alarm 
Herbert flung himself before the King, who sank 
back on the bed. Rupert, puzzled, vexed, yet 
half-amused (for he smiled still, the man said), 
took a step forward, crying out something about 
Rischenheim — what, Herbert could not tell us. 
“ Keep back,” exclaimed the King : “ keep back!” 
Rupert paused ; then as though with a sudden 
thought he held up the box that was in his left 
hand, saying : 

“Well, look at this, sire, and we’ll talk after- 
ward,” and he stretched out his hand with the 
box in it. 

Now the thing stood on a razor’s edge, for the 
King whispered to Herbert : 

“ What is it? Go and take it.” 

But Herbert hesitated, fearing to leave the 
King, whom his body now protected as though 
with a shield. Rupert’s impatience overcame 
him : if there were a trap, every moment’s delay 
doubled his danger. With a scornful laugh he 
exclaimed : 

“ Catch it, then, if you’re afraid to come for 

it,” and he flung the packet to Herbert or 

143 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

the King, or which of them might chance to 
catch it. 

This insolence had a strange result. In an 
instant, with a fierce growl and a mighty bound, 
Boris was at the stranger’s throat. Rupert had 
not seen or had not heeded the dog. A startled 
oath rang out from him. He snatched the re- 
volver from his belt and fired at his assailant. 
This shot must have broken the beast’s shoulder, 
but it only half arrested his spring. His great 
weight was still hurled on Rupert’s chest, and 
bore him back on his knee. The packet that he 
had flung lay unheeded. The King, wild with 
alarm and furious with anger at his favourite’s 
fate, jumped up and ran past Rupert into the 
next room. Herbert followed ; even as they 
went Rupert flung the wounded, weakened beast 
from him and darted to the doorway. He found 
himself facing Herbert, who held a boar-spear, 
and the King, who had a double-barrelled hunt- 
ing gun. He raised his left hand, Herbert said 
— no doubt he still asked a hearing — but the 
King levelled his weapon. With a spring 
Rupert gained the shelter of the door, the bullet 
sped by him and buried itself in the wall of the 
room. Then Herbert was at him with the boar- 
spear. Explanations must wait now: it was 
life or death ; without hesitation Rupert fired at 

Herbert, bringing him to the ground with a 

144 


TEMPER OF BORIS THE HOUND 


mortal wound. The King’s gun was at his 
shoulder again. 

“ You damned fool ! ” roared Rupert, “ if you 
must have it, take it,” and gun and revolver rang 
out at the same moment. But Rupert — never 
did his nerve fail him — hit, the King missed ; 
Herbert saw the Count stand for an instant with 
his smoking barrel in his hand, looking at the 
King who lay on the ground. Then Rupert 
walked towards the door. I wish I had seen his 
face then ! Did he frown or smile ? W as 
triumph or chagrin uppermost ? Remorse ? 
Not he ! 

He reached the door and passed through. 
That was the last Herbert saw of him ; but the 
fourth actor in the drama, the wordless player 
whose part had been so momentous, took the 
stage. Limping along, now whining in sharp 
agony, now growling in fierce anger, with blood 
flowing but hair bristling, the hound Boris 
dragged himself across the room, through the 
door, after Rupert of Hentzau. Herbert lis- 
tened, raising his head from the ground. There 
was a growl, an oath, the sound of a scuffle. 
Rupert must have turned in time to receive the 
dog’s spring. The beast, maimed and crippled 
by his shattered shoulder, did not reach his 
enemy’s face, but his teeth tore away the bit of 

cloth that we had found held in the vice of his 

145 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


jaws. Then came another shot, a laugh, retreat- 
ing steps, and a door slammed. With that last 
sound Herbert awoke to the fact of the Counts 
escape ; with weary efforts he dragged himself 
into the passage. The idea that he could go on 
if he got a drink of brandy turned him in the 
direction of the cellar. But his strength failed, 
and he sank down where we found him, not 
knowing whether the King were dead or still 
alive, and unable even to make his way back to 
the room where his master lay stretched on the 
ground. 

I had listened to the story, bound as though 
by a spell. Half-way through, James’s hand 
had crept to my arm and rested there ; when 
Herbert finished I heard the little man licking 
his lips, again and again slapping his tongue 
against them. Then I looked at Sapt. He was 
pale as a ghost, and the lines on his face seemed 
to have grown deeper. He glanced up and met 
my regard. Neither of us spoke ; we exchanged 
thoughts with our eyes. “This is our work,” 
we said to one another. “ It was our trap — 
these are our victims.” I cannot even now 
think of that hour, for by our act the King lay 
dead. 

But was he dead ? I seized Sapt by the arm. 
His glance questioned me. 

“ The King ? ” I whispered hoarsely. 

146 


TEMPER OF BORIS THE HOUND 


“ Yes, the King,” he returned. 

Facing round, we walked to the door of the 
dining-room. Here I turned suddenly faint, 
and clutched at the Constable. He held me up 
and pushed the door wide open. The smell of 
powder was in the room ; it seemed as if the 
smoke hung about, curling in dim coils round 
the chandelier, which gave a subdued light. 
James had the lamp now, and followed us with 
it. But the King was not there. A sudden 
hope filled me. He had not been killed then ! 
I regained strength, and darted across towards 
the inside room. Here too the light was dim, 
and I turned to beckon for the lamp. Sapt and 
James came together, and stood peering over my 
shoulder in the doorway. 

The King lay prone on the floor, face down- 
ward, near the bed. He had crawled there, 
seeking for some place to rest, as we supposed. 
He did not move. We watched him for a 
moment ; the silence seemed deeper than silence 
could be. At last, moved by a common im- 
pulse, we stepped forward, but timidly, as 
though we approached the throne of Death 
itself. I was the first to kneel by the King and 
raise his head. Blood had flowed from his lips, 
but it had ceased to flow now. He was dead. 

I felt Sapt’s hand on my shoulder. Looking 

up, I saw his other hand stretched out towards 

147 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


the ground. I turned my eyes where he pointed. 
There, in the King’s hand, stained with the 
King’s blood, was the box that I had carried 
to Wintenberg and Rupert of Hentzau had 
brought to the lodge that night. It was not 
rest, but the box, that the dying King had 
sought in his last moment. I bent, and lifting 
his hand unclasped the fingers, still limp and 
warm. 

Sapt bent down with sudden eagerness. 

“ Is it open ? ” he whispered. 

The string was round it ; the sealing-wax was 
unbroken. The secret had outlived the King, 
and he had gone to his death unknowing. All 
at once — I cannot tell why — I put my hand over 
my eyes ; I found my eyelashes were wet. 

“ Is it open ? ” asked Sapt again, for in the 
dim light he could not see. 

“ No,” I answered. 

“ Thank God ! ” said he. And, for Sapt’s, the 
voice was soft. 


148 


CHAPTER IX 


THE KING IN THE HUNTING-LODGE 

The moment with its shock and tumult of feel- 
ing brings one judgment, later reflection another. 
Among the sins of Rupert of Hentzau I do not 
assign the first and greatest place to his killing 
of the King. It was indeed the act of a reckless 
man who stood at nothing and held nothing 
sacred ; but when I consider Herbert’s story, 
and trace how the deed came to be done and the 
impulsion of circumstances that led to it, it seems 
to have been in some sort thrust upon him by the 
same perverse fate that dogged our steps. He 
had meant the King no harm — indeed it may be 
argued that, from whatever motive, he had 
sought to serve him — and save under the sud- 
den stress of self-defence he had done him none. 
The King’s unlooked-for ignorance of his errand, 
Herbert’s honest hasty zeal, the temper of Boris 
the hound, had forced on him an act unmeditated 
and utterly against his interest. His whole guilt 
lay in preferring the King’s death to his own — a 
crime perhaps in most men, but hardly deserving 
a place in Rupert’s catalogue. All this I can 
admit now, but on that night, with the dead 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


body lying there before us, with the story pite- 
ously told by Herberts faltering voice fresh in 
our ears, it was hard to allow any such extenua- 
tion. Our hearts cried out for vengeance, 
although we ourselves served the King no more. 
Nay, it may well be that we hoped to stifle some 
reproach of our own consciences by a louder 
clamour against another’s sin, or longed to offer 
some fancied empty atonement to our dead mas- 
ter by executing swift justice on the man who 
had killed him. I cannot tell fully what the 
others felt, but in me at least the dominant im- 
pulse was to waste not a moment in proclaiming 
the crime and raising the whole country in pur- 
suit of Rupert, so that every man in Ruritania 
should quit his work, his pleasure, or his bed, and 
make it his concern to take the Count of Hent- 
zau, alive or dead. I remember that 1 walked 
over to where Sapt was sitting, and caught him 
by the arm, saying : 

“ We must raise the alarm. If you’ll go to 
Zenda, I’ll start for Strelsau.” 

“ The alarm ? ” said he, looking up at me and 
tugging his moustache. 

“ Yes : when the news is known, every man 
in the kingdom will be on the look-out for him, 
and he can’t escape.” 

“ So that he’d be taken ? ” asked the Con- 
stable. 


150 


THE KING IN THE HUNTING-LODGE 


“ Yes, to a certainty ! ” I cried, hot in excite- 
ment and emotion. 

Sapt glanced across at Mr. Rassendyll’s ser- 
vant. James had, with my help, raised the King’s 
body on to the bed, and had aided the wounded 
forester to reach a couch. He stood now near 
the Constable, in his usual unobtrusive readi- 
ness. He did not speak, but I saw a look of un- 
derstanding in his eyes as he nodded his head to 
Colonel Sapt. They were well matched, that 
pair, hard to move, hard to shake, not to be 
turned from the purpose in their minds and the 
matter that lay to their hands. 

“ Yes, he’d probably be taken or killed,” said 
Sapt. 

“ Then let’s do it ! ” I cried. 

“ With the Queen’s letter on him,” said 
Colonel Sapt. 

I had forgotten. 

“We have the box, he has the letter still,” said 
Sapt. 

I could have laughed even at that moment. 
He had left the box (whether from haste or 
heedlessness or malice we could not tell), but the 
letter was on him. Taken alive, he would use 
that powerful weapon to save his life or satisfy 
his anger ; if it were found on his body, its evi- 
dence would speak loud and clear to all the world. 

Again he was protected by his crime : while he 

151 ' 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


had the letter, he must be kept inviolate from all 
attack except at our own hands. We desired his 
death, but we must be his bodyguard and die in 
his defence rather than let any other but our- 
selves come at him. No open means must be 
used, and no allies sought. All this rushed to 
my mind at Sapt’s words, and I saw what the 
Constable and James had never forgotten. But 
what to do I could not see. For the King of 
Ruritania lay dead. 

An hour or more had passed since our dis- 
covery, and it was now close on midnight. Had 
all gone well we ought by this time to have been 
far on our road back to the Castle ; by this time 
Rupert must be miles away from where he had 
killed the King ; already Mr. Rassendyll would 
be seeking his enemy in Strelsau. 

“ But what are we to do about — about that, 
then ? ” I asked, pointing with my finger through 
the doorway towards the bed. 

Sapt gave a last tug at his moustache, then 
crossed his hands on the hilt of the sword between 
his knees and leant forward in his chair. 

“Nothing,” he said, looking in my face. “Until 
we have the letter, nothing.” 

“ But it’s impossible,” I cried. 

“ Why, no, Fritz,” he answered thoughtfully. 
“ It’s not impossible yet ; it may become so. But 

if we can catch Rupert in the next day, or even 

152 


THE KING IN THE HUNTING-LODGE 


in the next two days, it’s not impossible. Only 
let me have that letter, and I’ll account for the 
concealment. What? Is the fact that crimes 
are known never concealed, for fear of putting 
the criminal on his guard ? ” 

“ You’ll be able to make a story, sir,” James 
put in, with a grave but reassuring air. 

“ Yes, James, I shall be able to make a story, 
or your master will make one for me. But, by 
God, story or no story, the letter mustn’t be 
found. Let them say we killed him ourselves if 

they like, but ” 

I seized his hand and gripped it. 

“ You don’t doubt I’m with you ? ” I asked. 

“ Not for a moment, Fritz,” he answered. 

“ Then how r can we do it ? ” 

We drew nearer together; Sapt and I sat, 
while James leant over Sapt’s chair. 

The oil in the lamp was almost exhausted, and 
the light burnt very dim. Now and again poor 
Herbert, for whom our skill could do nothing, 
gave a low moan. I am ashamed to remember 
how little we thought of him, but great schemes 
make the actors in them careless of humanity ; 
the life of a man goes for nothing against a point 
in the game. Except for his groans — and they 
grew fainter and less frequent — our voices alone 
broke the silence of the little lodge. 

“ The Queen must know,” said Sapt. “ Let 

153 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


her stay at Zenda and give out that the King 
is at the lodge for a day or two longer. Then 
you, Fritz — for you must ride to the Castle at 
once — and Bernenstein must get to Strelsau as 
quick as you can, and find Rudolf Rassendyll. 
You three ought to be able to track young Ru- 
pert down and get the letter from him. If he’s 
not in the city, you must catch Rischenheim and 
force him to say where he is ; we know Risch- 
enheim can be persuaded. If Rupert’s there, I 
need give no advice either to you or to Rudolf.” 

“ And you ? ” 

“ James and I stay here. If any one comes 
whom we can keep out, the King is ill. If 
rumours get about, and great folk come, why, 
they must enter.” 

“ But the body ? ” 

“ This morning, when you’re gone, we shall 
make a temporary grave. I daresay two,” and 
he jerked his thumb towards poor Herbert. “ Or 
even,” he added with his grim smile, “three — 
for our friend Boris, too, must be out of sight.” 

“ You’ll bury the King? ” 

“Not so deep but that we can take him out 
again, poor fellow. Well, Fritz, have you a 
better plan ? ” 

I had no plan, and I was not in love with 
Sapt’s plan. Yet it offered us four-and-twenty 

hours. For that time, at least, it seemed as if 

154 


THE KING IN THE HUNTING-LODGE 

the secret could be kept. Beyond that we could 
hardly hope for success : after that we must pro- 
duce the King ; dead or alive, the King must be 
seen. Yet it might be that before the respite 
ran out Rupert would be ours. In fine, what 
else could be chosen ? For now a greater peril 
threatened than that against which we had at the 
first sought to guard. Then the worst we feared 
was that the letter should come to the King’s 
hands. That could never be. But it would be 
a worse thing if it were found on Rupert, and all 
the kingdom, nay, all Europe, knew that it was 
written in the hand of her who was now in her 
own right Queen of Ruritania. To save her from 
that no chance was too desperate, no scheme too 
perilous ; yes, if, as Sapt said, we ourselves were 
held to answer for the King’s death, still we must 
go on. I, through whose negligence the whole 
train of disaster had been laid, was the last man 
to hesitate. In all honesty I held my life due 
and forfeit, should it be demanded of me — my 
life and, before the world, my honour. 

So the plan was made. A grave was to be 
dug ready for the King ; if need arose, his body 
should be laid in it, and the place chosen was 
under the floor of the wine-cellar. When death 
came to poor Herbert, he could lie in the yard 
behind the house ; for Boris they meditated a 

resting-place under the tree where our horses 

155 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


were tethered. There was nothing to keep me, 
and I rose ; but as I rose, I heard the forester’s 
voice call plaintively for me. The unlucky fel- 
low knew me well, and now cried to me to sit by 
him. I think Sapt wanted me to leave him ; but 
I could not refuse his last request, even though it 
consumed some precious minutes. He was very 
near his end, and, sitting by him, I did my best 
to soothe his passing. His fortitude was good to 
see, and I believe that we all at last found new 
courage for our enterprise from seeing how this 
humble man met death. At least even the Con- 
stable ceased to show impatience, and let me stay 
till I could close the sufferer’s eyes. 

But thus time went, and it was nearly five 
in the morning before I bade them farewell and 
mounted my horse. They took theirs and led 
them away to the stables behind the lodge ; I 
waved my hand and galloped off on my return 
to the Castle. Hay was dawning, and the air 
was fresh and pure. The new light brought 
new hope ; fears seemed to vanish before it ; my 
nerves were strung to effort and to confidence. 
My horse moved freely under me and carried me 
easily along the grassy avenues. It was hard then 
to be utterly despondent, hard to doubt skill of 
brain, strength of hand, or fortune’s favour. 

The Castle came in sight, and I hailed it with 

a glad cry that echoed among the trees. But a 

156 


THE KING IN THE HUNTING-LODGE 


moment later I gave an exclamation of surprise, 
and raised myself a little from the saddle while I 
gazed earnestly at the summit of the keep. The 
flagstaff was naked ; the royal standard that had 
flapped in the wind last night was gone. But by 
immemorial custom the flag flew on the keep 
when the King or the Queen was at the Castle. 
It would fly for Rudolf V. no more ; but why 
did it not proclaim and honour the presence of 
Queen Flavia ? I sat down in my saddle and 
spurred my horse to the top of his speed. We 
had been buffeted by fate sorely ; but now I 
feared yet another blow. 

In a quarter of an hour more I was at the 
door. A servant ran out, and I dismounted lei- 
surely and easily. Pulling off my gloves I dusted 
my boots with them, turned to the stableman 
and bade him look to the horse, and then said 
to the footman : 

“ As soon as the Queen is dressed, find out if 
she can see me. I have a message from His 
Majesty.” 

The fellow looked a little puzzled ; but at this 
moment Hermann, the King’s major-domo, came 
to the door. 

“ Isn’t the Constable with you, my lord? ” he 
asked. 

“ No, the Constable remains at the lodge with 

the King,” said I carelessly, though I was very 
11 157 ' 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


far from careless. “ I have a message for Her 
Majesty, Hermann. Find out from some of the 
women when she will receive me.” 

“ The Queen’s not here,” said he. “ Indeed 
we’ve had a lively time, my lord. At five o’clock 
she came out, ready dressed, from her room, sent 
for Lieutenant von Bernenstein, and announced 
that she was about to set out from the Castle. 
As you know, the mail train passes here at six.” 
Hermann took out his watch. “ Yes, the Queen 
must just have left the station.” 

“ Where for ? ” I asked, with a shrug for the 
woman’s whim. 

“ Why, for Strelsau. She gave no reasons for 
going, and took with her only one lady, Lieuten- 
ant von Bernenstein being in attendance. It was 
a bustle, if you like, with everybody to be roused 
and got out of bed, and a carriage to be made 
ready, and messages to go to the station, and ” 

“ She gave no reasons ? ” 

“None, my lord. She left with me a letter to 
the Constable, which she ordered me to give into 
his own hands as soon as he arrived at the Castle. 
She said it contained a message of importance, 
which the Constable was to convey to the King, 
and that it must be intrusted to nobody except 
Colonel Sapt himself. I wonder, my lord, that 
you didn’t notice that the flag was hauled down. ” 

“ Tut, man, I wasn’t staring at the keep. Give 

158 


THE KING IN THE HUNTING-LODGE 


me the letter.” For I saw that the clue to this 
fresh puzzle must lie under the cover of Sapt’s 
letter. That letter I must myself carry to Sapt, 
and without loss of time. 

“ Give you the letter, my lord ? But, pardon 
me, you’re not the Constable.” He laughed a 
little. 

“ Why, no,” said I, mustering a smile. “ It’s 
true that I’m not the Constable, but I’m goingto 
the Constable. I had the King’s orders to rejoin 
him as soon as I had seen the Queen ; and since 
Her Majesty isn’t here, I shall return to the lodge 
directly a fresh horse can be saddled for me. And 
the Constable’s at the lodge. Come, the letter ! ” 

“ I can’t give it you, my lord. Her Majesty’s 
orders were positive.” 

“ Nonsense. If she had known I should come 
and not the Constable, she would have told me 
to carry it to him.” 

“ I don’t know about that, my lord : her orders 
were plain, and she doesn’t like being disobeyed. ” 

The stableman had led the horse away, the 
footman had disappeared, Hermann and I were 
alone. 

“Give me the letter,” I said; and I know 
that my self-control failed, and eagerness was 
plain in my voice. Plain it was, and Hermann 
took alarm. He started back, clapping his hand 
to the breast of his laced coat. The gesture be- 

159 


r 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


trayed where the letter was : I was past pru- 
dence ; I sprang on him and wrenched his hand 
away, catching him by the throat with my other 
hand. Diving into his pocket, I got the letter. 
Then I suddenly loosed hold of him, for his eyes 
were starting out of his head. I took out a 
couple of gold pieces and gave them to him. 

44 It’s urgent, you fool,” said I. 44 Hold your 
tongue about it.” And without waiting to study 
his amazed red face I turned and ran towards the 
stables. In five minutes I was on a fresh horse ; 
in six I was clear of the Castle, heading back fast 
as I could for the hunting-lodge. Even now 
Hermann remembers the grip I gave him — 
though doubtless he has long spent the pieces of 
gold. 

When I reached the end of this second jour- 
ney, I came in for the obsequies of Boris. James 
was just patting the ground under the tree with a 
mattock when I rode up ; Sapt was standing by, 
smoking his pipe. The boots of both were stained 
and sticky with mud. I flung myself from my 
saddle and blurted out my news. The Constable 
snatched at his letter with an oath ; James lev- 
elled the ground with careful accuracy ; I do not 
remember doing anything except wiping my fore- 
head and feeling very hungry. 

44 Good Lord, she’s gone after him ! ” said Sapt, 

as he read. Then he handed me the letter. 

160 


THE KING IN THE HUNTING-LODGE 

I will not set out what the Queen wrote. The 
purport seemed to us, who did not share her feel- 
ings, pathetic indeed and moving, but in the end 
(to speak plainly) folly. She had tried to endure 
her sojourn at Zenda, she said; but it drove her 
mad. She could not rest ; she did not know how 
we fared, nor those in Strelsau : for hours she 
had lain awake; then at last falling asleep she 
had dreamed. 44 1 had had the same dream be- 
fore. Now it came again. I saw him so plain. 
He seemed to me to be King, and to be called 
King. But he did not answer nor move. He 
seemed dead; and I could not rest.” So she 
wrote, ever excusing herself, ever repeating how 
something drew her to Strelsau, telling her that 
she must go if she would see 44 him whom you 
know ” alive again. 44 And I must see him — ah, 
I must see him ! If the King has had the letter, 
I am ruined already. If he has not, tell him 
what you will or what you can contrive. I must 
go. It came a second time, and all so plain. I 
saw him, I tell you I saw him. Ah, I must see 
him again. I swear that I will only see him 
once. He’s in danger — I know he’s in danger; 
or what does the dream mean ? Bernenstein will 
go with me, and I shall see him. Do, do forgive 
me : I can’t stay, the dream was so plain.” Thus 
she ended, seeming, poor lady, half frantic with 

the visions that her own troubled brain and deso- 

161 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


late heart had conjured up to torment her. I 
did not know that she had before told Mr. Ras- 
sendyll himself of this strange dream ; though I 
lay small store by such matters, believing that 
we ourselves make our dreams, fashioning out of 
the fears and hopes of to-day what seems to come 
by night in the guise of a mysterious revelation. 
Yet there are some things that a man cannot un- 
derstand, and I do not profess to measure with 
my mind the ways of God. 

However, not why the Queen went, but that 
she had gone, concerned us. We had returned 
to the house now, and James, remembering that 
men must eat though kings die, was getting us 
some breakfast. In fact I had great need of 
food, being utterly worn out; and they, after 
their labours, were hardly less weary. As we 
ate, we talked ; and it was plain to us that I also 
must go to Strelsau. There, in the city, the 
drama must be played out. There was Rudolf, 
there Rischenheim, there in all likelihood Rupert 
of Hentzau, there now the Queen. And of these 
Rupert alone, or perhaps Rischenheim also, knew 
that the King was dead, and how the issue of 
last night had shaped itself under the compelling 
hand of wayward fortune. The King lay in peace 
on his bed, his grave was dug; Sapt and James 
held the secret with solemn faith and ready lives. 

To Strelsau I must go, to tell the Queen that 

162 


I 


THE KING IN THE HUNTING-LODGE 


she was widowed, and to aim the stroke at young 
Rupert’s heart. 

At nine in the morning I started from the 
lodge. I was bound to ride to Hofbau, and 
there wait for a train which would carry me to 
the capital. From Hofbau I could send a mes- 
sage ; but the message must announce only my 
own coming, not the news I carried. To Sapt, 
thanks to the cipher, I could send word at any 
time, and he bade me ask Mr. Rassendyll whether 
he should come to our aid, or stay where he was. 

44 A day must decide the whole thing,” he said. 
44 We can’t conceal the King’s death long. For 
God’s sake, Fritz, make an end of that young 
villain, and get the letter.” 

So, wasting no time in farewells, I set out. 
By ten o’clock I was at Hofbau, for I rode furi- 
ously. From there I sent to Bernenstein at the 
Palace word of my coming. But there I was de- 
layed. There was no train for an hour. 

44 I’ll ride ! ” I cried to myself, only to remem- 
ber the next moment that, if I rode, I should 
come to my journey’s end much later. There 
was nothing for it but to wait, and it may be im- 
agined in what mood I waited. Every minute 
seemed an hour, and I know not to this day how 
the hour wore itself away. I ate, I drank, I 
smoked, I walked, sat, and stood. The station- 
master knew me, and thought I had gone mad, 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


till I told him that I carried most important de- 
spatches, and that the delay imperilled great in- 
terests. Then he became sympathetic ; but what 
could he do? No special train was to be had 
at a roadside station : I must wait ; and wait 
somehow, and without blowing my brains out, 
I did. 

At last I was in the train ; now indeed we 
moved, and I came nearer. An hours run 
brought me in sight of the city. Then, to my 
unutterable wrath, we were stopped, and waited 
twenty minutes or half an hour. At last we 
started again ; had we not, I should have jumped 
out and run, for to sit longer motionless would 
have driven me mad. Now we entered the 
station. With a great effort I calmed myself. 
I lolled back in my seat ; when we stopped I sat 
there till a porter opened the door. In lazy lei- 
sureliness I bade him get me a cab, and followed 
him across the station. He held the door for 
me, and, giving him his douceur, I set my foot 
on the step. 

“Tell him to drive to the Palace,” said I, 
“and to be quick. I’m late already, thanks to 
this cursed train.” 

“ The old mare’ll soon take you there, sir,” 
said the driver. 

I jumped in. But at this moment I saw a 

man on the platform beckoning with his hand 

164 


THE KING IN THE HUNTING-LODGE 


and hastening towards me. The cabman also 
saw him and waited. I dared not tell him to 
drive on, for I feared to betray any undue haste, 
and it would have looked strange not to spare a 
moment to my wife’s cousin, Anton von Strof- 
zin. He came up, holding out his hand deli- 
cately gloved in pearl-grey kid, for young Anton 
was a leader of the Strelsau dandies. 

“Ah, my dear Fritz !” said he. “ I am glad 
I hold no appointment at Court. How dread- 
fully active you all are ! I thought you were 
settled at Zenda for a month ? ” 

“The Queen changed her mind suddenly,” 
said I, smiling. “ Ladies do, as you know well, 
you who know all about them.” 

My compliment, or insinuation, produced a 
pleased smile and a gallant twirling of his mous- 
tache. 

“Well, I thought you’d be here soon,” he 
said ; “ but I didn’t know that the Queen had 
come.” 

“You didn’t? Then why did you look out 
for me ? ” 

He opened his eyes a little in languid, elegant 
surprise. 

“ Oh, I supposed you’d be on duty, or some- 
thing, and have to come. Aren’t you in attend- 

o 

ance i 

“ On the Queen ? No, not just now.” 

165 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

“ But on the King ? ” 

“ Why, yes,” said I, and I leant forward. 
“ At least I’m engaged now on the King’s busi- 
ness.” 

“ Precisely,” said he. “ So I thought you’d 
come, as soon as I heard that the King was 
here.” 

It may be that I ought to have preserved my 
composure. But I am not Sapt nor Rudolf 
Rassendyll. 

“The King here?” I gasped, clutching him 
by the arm. 

“ Of course. You didn’t know? Yes, he’s in 
town.” 

But I heeded him no more. For a moment I 
could not speak, then I cried to the cabman : 

“ To the Palace. And drive like the devil ! ” 

We shot away, leaving Anton open-mouthed 
in wonder. I sank back on the cushions, fairly 
aghast. The King lay dead in the hunting- 
lodge, but the King was in his capital ! 

Of course the truth soon flashed through my 
mind, but it brought no comfort. Rudolf Ras- 
sendyll was in Strelsau. He had been seen by 
somebody and taken for the King. But com- 
fort? What comfort was there, now that the 
King was dead and could never come to the 
rescue of his counterfeit ? 

In fact the truth was worse than I conceived. 

166 


THE KING IN THE HUNTING-LODGE 


Had I known it all, I might well have yielded 
to despair. For not by the chance uncertain 
sight of a passer-by, not by mere rumour which 
might have been sturdily denied, not by the evi- 
dence of one only or of two, was the King’s 
presence in the city known. That day, by the 
witness of a crowd of people, by his own claim 
and his own voice, aye, and by the assent of the 
Queen herself, Mr. Rassendyll was taken to be 
the King in Strelsau, while neither he nor Queen 
Flavia knew that the King was dead. I must 
now relate the strange and perverse succession of 
events which forced them to employ a resource 
so dangerous and face a peril so immense. Yet 
great and perilous as they knew the risk to be 
even when they dared it, in the light of what 
they did not know it was more fearful and more 
fatal still. 


167 


CHAPTER X 


THE KING IN STRELSAU 

Mr. Rassendyll reached Strelsau from Zenda 
without accident about nine o’clock in the even- 
ing of the same day as that which witnessed the 
tragedy of the hunting-lodge. He could have 
arrived sooner, but prudence did not allow him 
to enter the populous suburbs of the town till 
the darkness guarded him from notice. The 
gates of the city were no longer shut at sunset, 
as they used to be in the days w T hen Duke 
Michael was Governor, and Rudolf passed them 
without difficulty. Fortunately the night, fine 
where we were, was wet and stormy at Strelsau ; 
thus there were few people in the streets, and he 
was able to gain the door of my house still unre- 
marked. Here, of course, a danger presented 
itself. None of my servants were in the secret ; 
only my wife, in whom the Queen herself had 
confided, knew Rudolf, and she did not expect to 
see him, since she was ignorant of the recent 
course of events. Rudolf was quite alive to the 
peril, and regretted the absence of his faithful at- 
tendant, who could have cleared the way for him. 

The pouring rain gave him an excuse for twisting 

168 


V 


THE KING IN STRELSAU 

a scarf about his face and pulling his coat-collar 
up to his ears, while the gusts of wind made the 
cramming of his hat low down over his eyes no 
more than a natural precaution against its loss. 
Thus masked from curious eyes, he drew rein 
before my door, and, having dismounted, rang the 
bell. When the butler came a strange hoarse 
voice, half-stifled by folds of scarf, asked for the 
Countess, alleging for pretext a message from 
myself. The man hesitated, as well he might, to 
leave the stranger alone with the door open and 
the contents of the hall at his mercy. Murmur- 
ing an apology in case his visitor should prove to 
be a gentleman, he shut the door and went in 
search of his mistress. His description of the un- 
timely caller at once roused my wife’s quick wit ; 
she had heard from me how Rudolf had ridden 
once from Strelsau to the hunting-lodge with muf- 
fled face : a very tall man with his face wrapped 
in a scarf and his hat over his eyes, who came 
with a private message, suggested to her at least 
a possibility of Mr. Rassendyll’s arrival. Helga 
never will admit that she is clever, yet I find she 
discovers from me what she wants to know, and 
I suspect hides successfully the small matters of 
which she in her wifely discretion deems I had 
best remain ignorant. Being able thus to man- 
age me, she was equal to coping with the butler. 

She laid aside her embroidery most composedly. 

169 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ Ah, yes,” she said, “ I know the gentleman. 
Surely you haven’t left him out in the rain ? ” 
She was anxious lest Rudolf’s features should 
have been exposed too long to the light of the 
hall-lamps. 

The butler stammered an apology, explaining 
his fear for our goods and the impossibility of 
distinguishing social rank on a dark night. Helga 
cut him short with an impatient gesture, crying, 
“ How stupid of you ! ” and herself ran quickly 
down and opened the door — a little way only, 
though. The first sight of Mr. Rassendyll con- 
firmed her suspicions ; in a moment, she said, 
she knew his eyes. 

“ It is you, then ? ” she cried. “ And my fool- 
ish servant has left you in the rain ! Pray come 
in. Oh, but your horse ! ” She turned to the 
penitent butler, who had followed her downstairs. 
“ Take the Baron’s horse round to the stables,” 
she said. 

“ I will send someone at once, my lady.” 

“No, no, take it yourself — take it at once. I’ll 
look after the Baron.” 

Reluctantly and ruefully the fat fellow stepped 
out into the storm. Rudolf drew back and let 
him pass, then he entered quickly, to find him- 
self alone with Helga in the hall. With a finger 
on her lips, she led him swiftly into a small sit- 
ting-room on the ground floor, which I used as a 

170 


THE KING IN STRELSAU 


sort of office or place of business. It looked out 
on the street, and the rain could be heard driv- 
ing against the broad panes of the window. 
Rudolf turned to her with a smile, and, bowing, 
kissed her hand. 

“ The Baron what, my dear Countess ? ” he in- 
quired. 

“ He won’t ask,” said she with a shrug. “ Do 
tell me what brings you here, and what has hap- 
pened.” 

He told her very briefly all he knew. She hid 
bravely her alarm at hearing that I might per- 
haps meet Rupert at the lodge, and at once 
listened to what Rudolf wanted of her. 

“ Can I get out of the house and, if need be, 
back again unnoticed ? ” he asked. 

“ The door is locked at night, and only Fritz 
and the butler have keys.” 

Mr. Rassendyll’s eye travelled to the window 
of the room. 

“ I haven’t grown so fat that I can’t get 
through there,” said he. “ So we’d better not 
trouble the butler. He’d talk, you know.” 

“ I will sit here all night and keep everybody 
from the room.” 

“ I may come back pursued if I bungle my 
work and an alarm is raised.” 

“ Your work ? ” she asked, shrinking back a 

little. 


171 




RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

“Yes,” said he. “Don’t ask what it is, 
Countess. It is in the Queen’s service. ” 

“ For the Queen I will do anything and every- 
thing, as Fritz would. ” 

He took her hand and pressed it in a friendly 
encouraging way. 

“ Theq^-I may issue my orders ? ” he asked, 
smiling. 

“ They shall be obeyed. 

“ Then a dry cloak, a little supper, and this 
room to myself, except for you. 

As he spoke the butler turned the handle of 
the door. My wife flew across the room, opened 
the door, and, while Rudolf turned his back, di- 
rected the man to bring some cold meat, or what- 
ever could be ready with as little delay as pos- 
sible. 

“Now come with me,” she said to Rudolf, 
directly the servant was gone. 

She took him to my dressing-room, where he 
got dry clothes ; then she saw the supper laid, 
ordered a bedroom to be prepared, told the butler 
that she had business with the Baron and that he 
need not sit up if she were later than eleven, dis- 
missed him, and went to tell Rudolf that the 
coast was clear for his return to the sitting-room. 
He came, expressing admiration for her courage 
and address : I take leave to think that she de- 
served his compliments. He made a hasty sup- 

172 


THE KING IN STRELSAU 


per ; then they talked together, Rudolf smoking 
his cigar. Eleven came and went. It was not 
yet time. My wife opened the door and looked 
out. The hall was dark, the door locked and its 
key in the hands of the butler. She closed the 
door again and softly locked it. As the clock 
struck twelve Rudolf rose and turned the lamp 
very low. Then he unfastened the shutters 
noiselessly, raised the window and looked out. 

“ Shut them again when I’m gone,” he whis- 
pered. 44 If I come back, I’ll knock like this, 
and you’ll open for me. ” 

44 For heaven’s sake be careful!” she mur- 
mured, catching at his hand. 

He nodded reassuringly, and crossing his leg 
over the window-sill sat there for a moment 
listening. The storm was as fierce as ever, and 
the street was deserted. He let himself down 
on to the pavement, his face again wrapped up. 
She watched his tall figure stride quickly along 
till a turn of the road hid it. Then, having 
closed the window and the shutters again, she sat 
down to keep her watch, praying for him, for 
me, and for her dear mistress the Queen. For 
she knew that perilous work was a- foot that 
night, and did not know whom it might threaten 
or whom destroy. 

From the moment that Mr. Rassendyll thus 

left my house at midnight on his search for 
12 173 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


Rupert of Hentzau, every hour and almost every 
moment brought its incident in the swiftly mov- 
ing drama which decided the issues of our fort- 
une. What we were doing has been told; by 
now Rupert himself was on his way back to the 
city, and the Queen was meditating, in her rest- 
less vigil, on the resolve that in a few hours was 
to bring her also to Strelsau. Even in the dead 
of night both sides were active. For, plan cau- 
tiously and skilfully as he might, Rudolf fought 
with an antagonist who lost no chances, and who 
had found an apt and useful tool in that same 
Bauer, a rascal and a cunning rascal, if ever one 
were bred in the world. From the beginning 
even to the end our error lay in taking too little 
count of this fellow, and dear was the price we 
paid. 

Both to my wife and to Rudolf himself the 
street had seemed empty of any living being 
when she watched and he set out. Yet every- 
thing had been seen, from his first arrival to the 
moment when she closed the window after him. 
At either end of my house there runs out a 
projection, formed by the bay windows of the 
principal drawing-room and of the dining-room 
respectively. These projecting walls form shad- 
ows, and in the shade of one of them — of which 
I do not know, nor is it of moment — a man 

watched all that passed ; had he been anywhere 

174 


THE KING IN STRELSAU 

else, Rudolf must have seen him. If we had 
not been too engrossed in playing our own hands, 
it would doubtless have struck us as probable 
that Rupert would direct Rischenheim and Bauer 
to keep an eye on my house during his absence; 
for it was there that any of us who found our 
way to the city would naturally resort in the first 
instance. As a fact, he had not omitted this 
precaution. The night was so dark that the spy, 
who had seen the King but once and never Mr. 
Rassendyll, did not recognise who the visitor 
was; but he rightly conceived that he would 
serve his employer by tracking the steps of the 
tall man who made so mysterious an arrival and 
so surreptitious a departure from the suspected 
house. Accordingly, as Rudolf turned the cor- 
ner and Helga left the window, a short thick- 
set figure started cautiously out of the projecting 
shadow, and followed in Rudolfs wake through 
the storm. The pair, tracker and tracked, met 
nobody, save here and there a police- constable 
keeping a most unwilling beat. Even such were 
few, and for the most part more intent on shel- 
tering in the lee of a friendly wall and thereby 
keeping a dry stitch or two on them than on 
taking note of passers-by. On the pair went. 
Now Rudolf turned into the Konigstrasse. As 
he did so, Bauer, who must have been nearly a 

hundred yards behind (for he could not start till 

175 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


the shutters were closed), quickened his pace and 
reduced the interval between them to about sev- 
enty yards. This he might well have thought a 
safe distance on a night so wild, when the rush 
of the wind and the pelt of the rain joined to 
hide the sound of footsteps. 

But Bauer reasoned as a townsman, and 
Rudolf Rassendyll had the quick ear of a man 
bred in the country and trained to the woodland. 
All at once there was a jerk of his head; I know 
so well the motion which marked awakened 
attention in him. He did not pause nor break 
his stride : to do either would have been to 
betray his suspicions to his follower ; but he 
crossed the road to the opposite side to that 
where No. 19 was situated, and slackened his 
pace a little, so that there might be a longer 
interval between his footfalls. The steps behind 
him grew slower, even as his did ; their sound 
came no nearer : the follower would not over- 
take. Now a man who loiters on such a night, 
just because another ahead of him is fool enough 
to loiter, has a reason for his action other than 
what can be detected at first sight. So thought 
Rudolf Rassendyll, and his brain was busy with 
finding it out. 

Then an idea seized him, and, forgetting the 

precautions that had hitherto served so well, he 

came to a sudden stop on the pavement, en- 

176 


THE KING IN STRELSAU 


grossed in deep thought. Was the man who 
dogged his steps Rupert himself? It would be 
like Rupert to track him, like Rupert to con- 
ceive such an attack, like Rupert to be ready 
either for a fearless assault from the front or 
a shameless shot from behind, and indifferent 
utterly which chance offered, so it threw him 
one of them. Mr. Rassendyll asked no better 
than to meet his enemy thus in the open. 
They could fight a fair fight, and if he fell the 
lamp would be caught up and carried on by 
S apt’s hand or mine ; if he got the better of 
Rupert, the letter would be his ; a moment 
would destroy it and give safety to the Queen. 
I do not suppose that he spent time in thinking 
how he should escape arrest at the hands of the 
police whom the fracas would probably rouse ; if 
he did, he may well have reckoned on declaring 
plainly who he was, of laughing at their surprise 
over a chance likeness to the King, and of trust- 
ing to us to smuggle him beyond the arm of the 
law. What mattered all that, so that there was 
a moment in which to destroy the letter ? At 
any rate he turned full round and began to walk 
straight towards Bauer, his hand resting on the 
revolver in the pocket of his coat. 

Bauer saw him coming, and must have known 
that he was suspected or detected. At once the 
cunning fellow slouched his head between his 

o 

177 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


shoulders, and set out along the street at a quick 
shuffle, whistling as he went. Rudolf stood still 
now in the middle of the road, wondering who 
the man was : whether Rupert, purposely dis- 
guising his gait, or a confederate, or, after all, 
some person innocent of our secret and indiffer- 
ent to our schemes. On came Bauer, softly 
whistling and slushing his feet carelessly through 
the liquid mud. Now he was nearly opposite 
where Mr. Rassendyll stood. Rudolf was well- 
nigh convinced that the man had been on his 
track : he would make certainty surer. The 
bold game was always his choice and his delight ; 
this trait he shared with Rupert of Hentzau, and 
hence arose, I think, the strange secret inclina- 
tion he had for his unscrupulous opponent. 
Now he walked suddenly across to Bauer, and 
spoke to him in his natural voice, at the same 
time removing the scarf partly, but not alto- 
gether, from his face : 

“ You’re out late, my friend, for a night like 
this.” 

Bauer, startled though he was by the unex- 
pected challenge, had his wits about him. 
Whether he identified Rudolf at once I do not 
know; I think that he must at least have sus- 
pected the truth. 

“ A lad that has no home to go to must needs 

be out both late and early, sir,” said he, arresting 

178 


THE KING IN STRELSAU 


his shuffling steps, and looking up with that 
honest stolid air which had made a fool of me. 

I had described him very minutely to Mr. 
Rassendyll ; if Bauer knew or guessed who his 
challenger was, Mr. Rassendyll was as well 
equipped for the encounter. 

“ No home to go to ! ” cried Rudolf in a pity- 
ing tone. “ How’s that ? But anyhow heaven 
forbid that you or any man should walk the 
streets a night like this ! Come, I’ll give you a 
bed. Come with me, and I’ll find you good 
shelter, my boy.” 

Bauer shrank away. He did not see the 
meaning of this stroke, and his eye, travelling up 
the street, showed that his thoughts had turned 
towards flight. Rudolf gave no time for putting 
any such notion into effect. Maintaining his air of 
genial compassion, he passed his left arm through 
Bauer’s right, saying, as he led him across the road : 

“I’m a Christian man, and a bed you shall 
have this night, my lad, as sure as I’m alive. 
Come along with me. The devil, it’s not 
weather for standing still ! ” 

The carrying of arms in Strelsau was forbid- 
den. Bauer had no wish to get into trouble with 
the police, and, moreover, he had intended noth- 
ing but a reconnaissance ; he was therefore with- 
out any weapon, and he was a child in Rudolf’s 

grasp. He had no alternative but to obey the 

179 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


suasion of Mr. Rassendyll’s arm, and they two 
began to walk down the Ivonigstrasse. Bauer’s 
whistle had died away, not to return ; but from 
time to time Rudolf hummed softly a cheerful 
tune, his fingers beating time on Bauer’s captive 
arm. Presently they crossed the road again. 
Bauer’s lagging steps indicated that he took no 
pleasure in the change of side, but he could not 
resist. 

“ Aye, you shall go where I’m going, my 
lad,” said Rudolf encouragingly ; and he laughed 
a little as he looked down at the fellow’s face. 

Along they went ; soon they came to the small 
numbers at the station end of the Konigstrasse. 
Rudolf began to peer at the shop fronts. 

“ It’s cursed dark,” said he. “ Pray, lad, can 
you make out which is nineteen ? ” 

The moment he had spoken the smile broad- 
ened on his face. The shot had gone home. 
Bauer was a clever scoundrel, but his nerves 
were not under perfect control, and his arm had 
quivered under Rudolf’s. 

“ Nineteen, sir ? ” he stammered. 

“ Aye, nineteen. That’s where were bound 
for, you and I. There I hope we shall find — 
what we want.” 

Bauer seemed bewildered : no doubt he was 
at a loss how either to understand or to parry 
the bold attack. 


180 


THE KING IN STRELSAU 


“ Ah, this looks like it,” said Rudolf in a tone 
of great satisfaction, as they came to old mother 
Holf s little shop. “ Isn’t that a one and a nine 
over the door, my lad? Ah, and Holf! Yes, 
that’s the name. Pray ring the bell. My hands 
are occupied.” 

Rudolf’s hands were indeed occupied : one 
held Bauer’s arm, now no longer with a friendly 
pressure, but with a grip of iron ; in the other 
the captive saw the revolver, which had till now 
lain hidden. 

“ You see ? ” asked Rudolf pleasantly. “ You 
must ring for me, mustn’t you ? It would startle 
them if I roused them with a shot.” A motion 
of the barrel told Bauer the direction which the 
shot would take. 

“ There’s no bell,” said Bauer sullenly. 

“ Ah, then you knock ? ” 

“ I suppose so.” 

“In any particular way, my friend ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” growled Bauer. 

“ Nor I. Can’t you guess ? ” 

“No, I know nothing of it.” 

“ Well, we must try. You knock, and 

Listen, my lad. You must guess right. You un- 
derstand ? ” 

“ How can I guess ? ” asked Bauer, in an 
attempt at bluster. 

“ Indeed I don’t know,” smiled Rudolf. “ But 

181 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


I hate waiting, and if the door is not open in two 
minutes I shall arouse the good folk with a shot. 
You see? You quite see, don’t you?” Again 
the barrel’s motion pointed and explained Mr. 
Rassendyll’s meaning. 

Under this powerful persuasion Bauer yielded. 
He lifted his hand and knocked on the door with 
his knuckles, first loudly, then very softly, the 
gentler stroke being repeated five times in rapid 
succession. Clearly he was expected, for without 
any sound of approaching feet the chain was un- 
fastened with a subdued rattle. Then came the 
noise of the bolt being cautiously worked back 
into its socket. As it shot home a chink of the 
door opened. At the same moment Rudolf s 
hand slipped from Bauer’s arm. With a swift 
movement he caught the fellow by the nape of 
the neck and flung him violently into the road- 
way, where, losing his footing, he fell sprawling 
face-downwards in the mud. Rudolf threw him- 
self against the door : it yielded, he was inside, 
and in an instant he had shut the door and driven 
the bolt home again, leaving Bauer in the gutter 
outside. Then he turned with his hand on the 
butt of his revolver. I know that he hoped to 
find Rupert of Hentzau’s face within a foot of his. 

Neither Rupert nor Rischenheim, nor even the 
old woman, fronted him : a tall, handsome, dark 

girl faced him, holding an oil lamp in her hand. 

182 


THE KING IN STRELSAU 


He did not know her, but I could have told him 
that she was old mother Holf s youngest child, 
Rosa, for I had often seen her as I rode through 
the town of Zenda with the King, before the old 
lady moved her dwelling to Strelsau. Indeed 
the girl had seemed to dog the King’s footsteps, 
and he had himself joked on her obvious efforts 
to attract his attention, and the languishing 
glances of her great black eyes. But it is the 
lot of prominent personages to inspire these 
strange passions, and the King had spent as lit- 
tle thought on her as on any of the romantic 
girls who found a naughty delight in half-fanciful 
devotion to him — devotion starting in many cases, 
by an irony of which the King was happily un- 
conscious, from the brave figure that he made at 
his coronation and his picturesque daring in the 
affair of Black Michael. The worshippers never 
came near enough to perceive the alteration in 
their idol. 

The half, then, at least of Rosa’s attachment 
was justly due to the man who now stood oppo- 
site to her, looking at her with surprise by the 
murky light of the strong-smelling oil-lamp. The 
lamp shook and almost fell from her hand when 
she saw him ; for the scarf had slid away, and 
his features were exposed to full view. Fright, 
delight, and excitement vied with one another in 
her eyes. 


183 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ The King ! ” she whispered in amazement. 

“ No, but ” And she searched his face won- 

deringly. 

“ Is it the beard you miss ? ” asked Rudolf, 
fingering his chin. “ Mayn’t kings shave when 
they please as well as other men ? ” Her face still 
expressed bewilderment, and still a lingering 
doubt. He bent towards her, whispering, “ Per- 
haps I wasn’t over-anxious to be known at once.” 

She flushed with pleasure at the confidence he 
seemed to put in her. 

“I should know you anywhere,” she whis- 
pered, with a glance of the great black eyes. 
‘ 6 Anywhere, Y our Maj esty. 

“ Then you’ll help me perhaps ? ” 

“ With my life ! ” 

4 ‘No, no, my dear young lady, merely with a 
little information. Whose house is this ? ” 

“ My mother’s.” 

“ Ah ! She takes lodgers ? ” 

The girl appeared vexed at his cautious ap- 
proaches. 

“ Tell me what you want to know,” she said 
simply. 

“ Then who’s here ? ” 

“My lord the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim.” 

‘ ‘ And what’s he doing ? ” 

“He’s lying on the bed moaning and swear- 
ing, because his wounded arm gives him pain.” 

184 


THE KING IN STRELSAU 


4 4 And is nobody else here ? ” 

She looked round warily, and sank her voice 
to a whisper as she answered : 

4 4 No, not now — nobody else.” 

“I was seeking a friend of mine,” said Ru- 
dolf. “ I want to see him alone. Its not easy 
for a King to see people alone.” 

44 You mean ? ” 

44 Well, you know who I mean.” 

“Yes. No, he’s gone; but he’s gone to find 
you.” 

44 To find me ? Plague take it ! How do you 
know that, my pretty lady ? ” 

44 Bauer told me.” 

44 Ah, Bauer ! And who’s Bauer ? ” 

44 The man who knocked. Why did you shut 
him out ? ” 

44 To be alone with you, to be sure. So Bauer 
tells you his master’s secrets ? ” 

She acknowledged his raillery with a coquet- 
tish laugh. It was not amiss for the King to see 
that she had her admirers. 

4 4 W ell, and where has this foolish Count gone 
to meet me ? ” asked Rudolf lightly. 

44 You haven’t seen him ? ” 

44 No; I come straight from the Castle of 
Zenda.” 

4 4 But, ” she cried, 4 4 he expected to find you at 

the hunting-lodge. Ah, but now I recollect ! 

185 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


The Count of Rischenheim was greatly vexed to 
find, on his return, that his cousin was gone/’ 

“Ah, he was gone! Now I see! Rischenheim 
brought a message from me to Count Rupert.” 

“And they missed one another, Your Majesty?” 

“ Exactly, my dear young lady. A ery vexa- 
tious it is, upon my word ! ” In this remark, at 
least, Rudolf spoke no more and no other than 
he felt. “But when do you expect the Count 
of Hentzau ? ” he pursued. 

“Early in the morning, Your Majesty — at 
seven or eight.” 

Rudolf came nearer to her, and took a couple 
of gold coins from his pocket. 

“I don’t want money, Your Majesty,” she 
murmured. 

“Oh, make a hole in them and hang them 
round your neck.” 

“Ah, yes: yes, give them to me,” she cried, 
holding out her hand eagerly. 

“You’ll earn them?” he asked, playfully 
holding them out of her reach. 

“ How ? ” 

‘ ‘ By being ready to open to me when I come 
at eleven and knock as Bauer knocked.” 

“ Yes, I’ll be there.” 

“ And by telling nobody that I’ve been here 
to-night. Will you promise me that ? ” 

“Not my mother ? ” 


186 


THE KING IN STRELSAU 


“No” 

“ Nor the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim ? ” 

“Him least of all. You must tell nobody. 
My business is very private, and Rischenheim 
doesn’t know it.” 

“I’ll do all you tell me. But — but Bauer 
knows.” 

“ True,” said Rudolf : “ Bauer knows. Well, 
we’ll see about Bauer.” 

As he spoke he turned towards the door. 
Suddenly the girl bent, snatched at his hand, and 
kissed it. 

“ I would die for you,” she murmured. 

“ Poor child ! ” said he gently. I believe he 
was loth to make profit, even in the Queen’s 
service, of her poor foolish love. He laid his 
hand on the door, but paused a moment to say : 

“ If Bauer comes, you have told me nothing. 
Mind, nothing ! I threatened you, but you told 
me nothing.” 

“ He’ll tell them you have been here.” 

“ That can’t be helped ; at least they won’t 
know when I shall arrive again. Good-night.” 

Rudolf opened the door and slipped through, 
closing it hastily behind him. If Bauer got back 
to the house, his visit must be known ; but if he 
could intercept Bauer, the girl’s silence was as- 
sured. He stood just outside, listening intently 

and searching the darkness with eager eyes. 

187 


CHAPTER XI 


WHAT THE CHANCELLOR’S WIFE SAW 

The night, so precious in its silence, solitude, and 
darkness, was waning fast : soon the first dim 
approaches of day would be visible, soon the 
streets would become alive and people be about. 
Before then Budolf Rassendyll, the man who 
bore a face that he dared not show in open day, 
must be under cover ; else men would say that 
the King was in Strelsau, and the news would 
flash in a few hours through the kingdom and 
(so Rudolf feared) reach even those ears which 
we knew to be shut to all earthly sounds. But 
there was still some time at Mr. Rassendyll’s 
disposal, and he could not spend it better than 
in pursuing his fight with Bauer. Taking a leaf 
out of the rascal’s own book, he drew himself 
back into the shadow of the house walls and pre- 
pared to wait. At the worst he could keep the 
fellow from communicating with Rischenheim 
for a little longer, and his hope was that Bauer 
would steal back after a while and reconnoitre 
with a view to discovering how matters stood, 
whether the unwelcome visitor had taken his de- 
parture and the way to Rischenheim were open. 

188 


THE CHANCELLORS WIFE 


Wrapping his scarf closely round his face, Ru- 
dolf waited, patiently enduring the tedium as he 
best might, drenched by the rain which fell 
steadily, and very imperfectly sheltered from the 
buffeting of the wind. Minutes went by ; there 
were no signs of Bauer nor of anybody else in 
the silent street. Yet Rudolf did not venture 
to leave his post; Bauer would seize the oppor- 
tunity to slip in; perhaps Bauer had seen him 
come out, and was in his turn waiting till the 
coast should be clear; or, again, perhaps the 
useful spy had gone off to intercept Rupert of 
Hentzau, and warn him of the danger in the 
Ivonigstrasse. Ignorant of the truth and com- 
pelled to accept all these chances, Rudolf waited, 
still watching the distant beginnings of dawning 
day, which must soon drive him to his hiding- 
place again. Meanwhile my poor wife waited 
also, a prey to every fear that a woman’s sensi- 
tive mind can imagine and feed upon. 

Rudolf turned his head this way and that, 
seeking always the darker blot of shadow that 
would mean a human being. For awhile his 
search was vain, but presently he found what he 
looked for — aye, and even more. On the same 
side of the street, to his left hand, from the di- 
rection of the station, not one but three blurred 
shapes moved up the street. They came stealth- 
ily, yet quickly ; with caution, but without 
13 189 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


pause or hesitation. Rudolf, scenting danger, 
flattened himself close against the wall and felt 
for his revolver. Very likely they were only 
early workers or late revellers, but he was ready 
for something else ; he had not yet sighted 
Bauer, and action was to be looked for from the 
man. By infinitely gradual side-long slitherings 
he moved a few paces from the door of Mother 
Holf’s house, and stood six feet perhaps, or eight, 
on the right-hand side of it. The three came on. 
He strained his eyes in the effort to discern their 
features. In that dim light certainty was impos- 
sible, but the one in the middle might well be 
Bauer: the height, the walk, and the make were 
much what Bauer’s were. If it were Bauer, then 
Bauer had friends, and Bauer and his friends 
seemed to be stalking some game. Always most 
carefully and gradually,, Rudolf edged yet farther 
from the shop. At a distance of some five yards 
he halted finally, drew out his revolver, covered 
the man whom he took to be Bauer, and thus 
waited his fortune and his chance. 

Now it was plain that Bauer — for Bauer it 
was — would look for one of two things : what he 
hoped was to find Rudolf still in the house, 
what he feared was to be told that Rudolf, 
having fulfilled the unknown purpose of his visit, 
was gone whole and sound. If the latter tidings 

met him, these two good friends of his whom he 

190 


THE CHANCELLORS WIFE 


had enlisted for his reinforcement were to have 
five crowns each and go home in peace ; if the 
former, they were to do their work and make 
ten crowns. Years after, one of them told me 
the whole story without shame or reserve. 
What their work was, the heavy bludgeons they 
carried and the long knife that one of them had 
lent to Bauer showed pretty clearly. But neither 
to Bauer nor to them did it occur that their 
quarry might be crouching near, hunting as well 
as hunted. Not that the pair of ruffians who 
had been thus hired would have hesitated for 
that thought, as I imagine. For it is strange, 
yet certain, that the zenith of courage and the 
acme of villainy can both be bought for the price 
of a lady’s glove; among such outcasts as those 
from whom Bauer drew his recruits the murder 
of a man is held serious only when the police are 
by, and death at the hands of him they seek to 
kill is no more than an everyday risk of their em- 
ployment. 

“Here’s the house,” whispered Bauer, stop- 
ping at the door. “Now I’ll knock, and you 
stand by to knock him on the head if he runs 
out. He’s got a six-shooter, so lose no time.” 

“He’ll only fire it in heaven,” growled a 
hoarse guttural voice that ended in a chuckle. 

“ But if he’s gone? ” objected the other aux- 
iliary. 


191 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“Then I know where he’s gone,” answered 
Bauer. 4 4 Are you ready ? ’ ’ 

A ruffian stood on either side of the door with 
uplifted bludgeon. Bauer raised his hand to 
knock. 

Rudolf knew that Rischenheim was within, 
and he feared that Bauer, hearing that the 
stranger had gone, would take the opportunity 
of telling the Count of his visit. The Count 
would in his turn warn Rupert of Hentzau, and 
the work of catching the ringleader would all fall 
to be done again. At no time did Mr. Rassen- 
dyll take count of odds against him, but in this 
instance he may well have thought himself, with 
his revolver, a match for the three ruffians. At 
any rate, before Bauer had time to give the sig- 
nal, he sprang out suddenly from the wall and 
darted at the fellow. His onset was so sudden 
that the other two fell back a pace ; Rudolf 
caught Bauer fairly by the throat. I do not 
suppose that he meant to strangle him, but the 
anger, long stored in his heart, found vent in the 
fierce grip of his fingers. It is certain that Bauer 
thought his time was come, unless he struck 
a blow for himself. Instantly he raised his hand 
and thrust fiercely at Rudolf with his long knife. 
Mr. Rassendyll would have been a dead man, 
had he not loosed his hold and sprung lightly 

away. But Bauer sprang at him again, thrust- 

192 


THE CHANCELLORS WIFE 


ing with the knife, and crying to his associates, 
“ Club him, you fools, club him ! ’ ’ 

Thus exhorted, one jumped forward. The 
moment for hesitation had gone. In spite of the 
noise of wind and pelting rain, the sound of a 
shot risked much ; but not to fire was death. 
Rudolf fired full at Bauer : the fellow saw his 
intention and tried to leap behind one of his com- 
panions ; he was just too late, and fell with a 
groan to the ground. 

Again the other ruffians shrank back, appalled 
by the sudden ruthless decision of the act. Mr. 
Rassendyll laughed. A half-smothered yet un- 
controlled oath broke from one of them. 44 By 
God ! ” he whispered hoarsely, gazing at Rudolf’s 
face and letting his arm fall to his side. “ My 
God ! ” he said then, and his mouth hung open. 
Again Rudolf laughed at his terrified stare. 

“A bigger job than you fancied, is it? ” he 
asked, pushing his scarf well away from his 
chin. 

The man gaped at him; the other’s eyes asked 
wondering questions, but neither did he attempt 
to resume the attack. The first at last found 
voice, and he said : 

“ Well, it’d be damned cheap at ten crowns, 
and that’s the living truth.” 

His friend — or confederate rather, for such 

men have no friends — looked on, still amazed. 

193 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ Take up that fellow by his head and his 
heels,” ordered Rudolf. “Quickly! I suppose 
you don’t want the police to find us here with 
him, do you? Well, no more do I. Lift him 
up.” 

As he spoke Rudolf turned to knock on the 
door of No. 19. 

But even as he did so Bauer groaned. Dead 
perhaps he ought to have been, but it seems to 
me that fate is always ready to take the cream 
and leave the scum. His leap aside had served 
him well after all : he had nearly escaped scot 
free. As it was, the bullet, without missing his 
head altogether, had just glanced on his temple 
as it passed; its impact had stunned but not 
killed. Friend Bauer was in unusual luck that 
night; I wouldn’t have taken a hundred to one 
about his chance of life. Rudolf arrested his 
hand. It would not do to leave Bauer at the 
house, if Bauer were likely to regain speech. He 
stood for a moment considering what to do, but 
in an instant the thoughts that he tried to gather 
were scattered again. 

“ The patrol, the patrol ! ’ ’ hoarsely whispered 
the fellow who had not yet spoken. There was 
a sound of the hoofs of horses. Down the street 
from the station- end there appeared two mounted 
men. Without a second’s hesitation the two ras- 
cals dropped their friend Bauer with a thud on 

194 


THE CHANCELLORS WIFE 


the ground; one ran at his full speed across 
the street, the other bolted no less quickly up 
the Ivonigstrasse. Neither could afford to meet 
the constables; and who could say what story 
this red-haired gentleman might tell, aye, or 
what powers he might command ? 

But in truth Rudolf gave no thought to either 
his story or his powers. If he were caught, the 
best he could hope would be to lie in the lock-up 
while Rupert played his game unmolested. The 
device that he had employed against the amazed 
ruffians could be used against lawful authority 
only as a last and desperate resort. While he 
could run, run he would. In an instant he also 
took to his heels, following the fellow who had 
darted up the Konigstrasse. But before he had 
gone very far, coming to a narrow turning, he 
shot down it; then he paused for a moment to 
listen. 

The patrol had seen the sudden dispersal of the 
group, and, struck with natural suspicion, quick- 
ened pace. A few minutes brought them where 
Bauer was. They jumped from their horses and 
ran to him. He was unconscious, and could, of 
course, give them no account of how he came to 
be in his present state. The fronts of all the 
houses were dark, the doors shut ; there was noth- 
ing to connect the man stretched on the ground 

with either No. 19 or any other dwelling. More- 

195 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

over the constables were not sure that the suf- 
ferer was himself a meritorious object, for his 
hand still held a long ugly knife. They were 
perplexed : they were but two ; there was a 
wounded man to look after; there were three 
men to pursue, and the three had fled in three 
different directions. They looked up at No. 19; 
No. 19 remained dark, quiet, absolutely indiffer- 
ent. The fugitives were out of sight. Rudolf 
Rassendyll, hearing nothing, had started again 
on his way. Rut a minute later he heard a shrill 
whistle. The patrol were summoning assistance ; 
the man must be carried to the station, and a re- 
port made ; but other constables might be warned 
of what had happened, and despatched in pursuit 
of the culprits. Rudolf heard more than one 
answering whistle ; he broke into a run, looking 
for a turning on the left that would take him 
back into the direction of my house, but he found 
none. The narrow street twisted and curved in 
the bewildering way that characterises the old 
parts of the town. Rudolf had spent some time 
once in Strelsau ; but a king learns little of back 
streets, and he was soon fairly puzzled as to his 
whereabouts. Day was dawning, and he began 
to meet people here and there. He dared run 
no more, even had his breath lasted him; wind- 
ing the scarf about his face, and cramming his 

hat over his forehead again, he fell into an easy 

196 


THE CHANCELLORS WIFE 


walk, wondering whether he could venture to ask 
his way, relieved to find no signs that he was being 
pursued, trying to persuade himself that Bauer, 
though not dead, was at least incapable of em- 
barrassing disclosures, above all conscious of the 
danger of his tell-tale face, and of the necessity 
of finding some shelter before the city was all 
stirring and awake. 

At this moment he heard horses’ hoofs behind 
him. He was now at the end of the street, where 
it opened on the square in which the barracks 
stand. He knew his bearings now, and, had he 
not been interrupted, could have been back to 
safe shelter in my house in twenty minutes. But 
looking back he saw the figure of a mounted con- 
stable just coming into sight behind him. The 
man seemed to see Rudolf, for he broke into a 
quick trot. Mr. Rassendyll’s position was crit- 
ical; this fact alone accounts for the dangerous 
step into which he allowed himself to be forced. 
Here he was, a man unable to give account of 
himself, of remarkable appearance, and carrying 
a revolver, of which one barrel was discharged. 
And there was Bauer, a wounded man, shot by 
somebody with a revolver a quarter of an hour 
before. Even to be questioned was dangerous; 
to be detained meant ruin to the great business 
that engaged his energies. For all he knew, 

the patrol had actually sighted him as he ran. 

197 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


His fears were not vain ; for the constable raised 
his voice, crying : 

“ Hi, sir — you there — stop a minute ! ” 

Resistance was the one thing worse than to 
yield. Wit, and not force, must find escape this 
time. Rudolf stopped, looking round again with 
a surprised air. Then he drew himself up with 
an assumption of dignity, and waited for the con- 
stable. If that last card must be played, he 
would win the hand with it. 

“Well, what do you want? ” he asked coldly, 
when the man was a few yards from him ; and, 
as he spoke, he withdrew the scarf almost entirely 
from his features, keeping it only over his chin. 
“ You call very peremptorily,” he continued, star- 
ing contemptuously. “ What’s your business 
with me ? ” 

With a violent start, the sergeant — for such 
the star on his collar and the lace on his cuff pro- 
claimed him — leant forward in the saddle to look 
at the man whom he had hailed. Rudolf said 
nothing and did not move. The man’s eyes 
studied his face intently. Then he sat bolt up- 
right and saluted, his face dyed to a deep red in 
his sudden confusion. 

“ And why do you salute me now ? ” asked 
Rudolf in a mocking tone. “ First you hunt me, 
then you salute me. By heaven, I don’t know 

why you put yourself out at all about me ! ” 

198 


THE CHANCELLORS WIFE 


“ I — I ” the fellow stuttered. Then try- 

ing a fresh start, he stammered, 44 Your Majesty, 

I didn’t know — I didn’t suppose ” 

Rudolf stepped towards him with a quick de- 
cisive tread. 

44 And why do you call me 4 Your Majesty ’ ? ” 
“ It — it — Isn’t it Your Majesty? ” 

Rudolf was close by him now, his hand on the 
horse’s neck. He looked up in the sergeant’s 
face with steady eyes, saying : 

4 4 You make a mistake, my friend. I am not 
the King.” 

“You are not ” stuttered the bewildered 

fellow. 

44 By no means. And, sergeant ? ” 

44 Your Majesty? ” 

44 Sir, you mean.” 

44 Yes, sir.” 

“A zealous officer, sergeant, can make no 
greater mistake than to take for the King a gen- 
tleman who is not the King. It might injure 
his prospects, since the King, not being here, 
mightn’t wish to have it supposed that he was 
here. Do you follow me, sergeant ? ” 

The man said nothing, but stared hard. After 
a moment Rudolf continued : 

44 In such a case,” said he, 44 a discreet officer 
would not trouble the gentleman any more, and 

would be very careful not to mention that he 

199 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


had made such a silly mistake. Indeed, if ques- 
tioned, he would answer without hesitation that 
he hadn’t seen anybody even like the King, much 
less the King himself. 

A doubtful puzzled little smile spread under 
the sergeant’s moustache. 

“You see, the King is not even in Strelsau,” 
said Rudolf. 

“Not in Strelsau, sir? ” 

“ Why, no ; he’s at Zenda.” 

“ Ah ! At Zenda, sir ? ” 

“ Certainly. It is therefore impossible — physi- 
cally impossible — that he should be here.” 

The fellow was convinced that he understood 
now. 

“It’s certainly impossible, sir,” said he, smil- 
ing more broadly. 

“Absolutely. And therefore impossible also 
that you should have seen him.” With this 
Rudolf took a gold piece from his pocket and 
handed it to the sergeant. The fellow took it 
with something like a wink. “ As for you, 
you’ve searched here and found nobody,” con- 
cluded Mr. Rassendyll. “ So hadn’t you better 
at once search somewhere else ? ’ ’ 

“Without doubt, sir,” said the sergeant; and 
with the most deferential salute, and another con- 
fidential smile, he turned and rode back by the 

way he had come. No doubt he wished that he 

200 




THE CHANCELLORS WIFE 


could meet a gentleman who was — not the King 
— every morning of his life. It need hardly be 
said that all idea of connecting the gentleman 
with the crime committed in the Konigstrasse 
had vanished from his mind. Thus Rudolf won 
freedom from the man’s interference, but at a 
dangerous cost — how dangerous he did not know. 
It was indeed most impossible that the King 
could be in Strelsau. 

He lost no time now in turning his steps 
towards his refuge. It was past five o’clock, day 
came quickly, and the streets began to be peo- 
pled by men and women on their way to open 
stalls or to buy in the market. Rudolf crossed 
the square at a rapid walk, for he was afraid of 
the soldiers who were gathering for early duty 
opposite to the barracks. Fortunately he passed 
by them unobserved, and gained the comparative 
seclusion of the street in which my house stands 
without encountering any further difficulties. In 
truth he was almost in safety ; but bad luck was 
now to have its turn. When Mr. Rassendyll 
was no more than fifty yards from my door, a 
carriage suddenly drove up and stopped a few 
paces in front of him. The footman sprang down 
and opened the door. Two ladies got out ; they 
were dressed in evening costume, and were re- 
turning from a ball. One was middle-aged, the 

other young and rather pretty. They stood for 

201 


\ 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

a moment on the pavement, the younger say- 
ing : 

“Isn’t it pleasant, mother? I wish I could 
always be up at five o’clock. ” 

“ My dear, you wouldn’t like it for long,” an- 
swered the elder. “ It’s very nice for a change, 
but ” 

She stopped abruptly. Her eye had fallen on 
Rudolf Rassendyll. He knew her: she was no 
less a person than the wife of Helsing the Chan- 
cellor; his was the house at which the carriage 
had stopped. The trick that had served with 
the sergeant of police would not do now. She 
knew the King too well to believe that she could 
be mistaken about him; she was too much of a 
busybody to be content to pretend that she was 
mistaken. 

“ Good gracious ! ’ ’ she whispered loudly, and, 
catching her daughter’s arm, she murmured: 
“Heavens, my dear, it’s the King!” 

Rudolf was caught. Not only the ladies but 
their servants were looking at him. 

Flight was impossible. He walked by them. 
The ladies curtseyed, the servants bowed bare- 
headed. Rudolf touched his hat and bowed 
slightly in return. He walked straight on tow- 
ards my house; they were watching him, and 
he knew it. Most heartily did he curse the un- 
timely hours to which folks keep up their danc- 

202 


THE CHANCELLORS WIFE 


ing, but he thought that a visit to my house 
would afford as plausible an excuse for his pres- 
ence as any other. So he went on, surveyed by 
the wondering ladies, and by the servants, who, 
smothering smiles, asked one another what 
brought His Majesty abroad in such a plight 
(for Rudolf’s clothes were soaked and his boots 
muddy), at such an hour — and that in Strelsau, 
when all the world thought he was at Zenda. 

Rudolf reached my house. Knowing that he 
was watched, he had abandoned all intention of 
giving the signal agreed on between my wife and 
himself and of making his way in through the 
window. Such a sight would indeed have given 
the excellent Baroness von Helsing matter for 
gossip ! It was better to let every servant in my 
house see his open entrance. But, alas, virtue 
itself sometimes leads to ruin. My dearest Helga, 
sleepless and watchful in the interest of her mis- 
tress, was even now behind the shutter, listening 
with all her ears and peering through the chinks. 
No sooner did Rudolf’s footsteps become audi- 
ble than she cautiously unfastened the shutter, 
opened the window, put her pretty head out, 
and called softly: 

4 4 All’s safe ! Come in ! ” 

The mischief was done then, for the faces of 
Helsing’s wife and daughter, aye, and the faces 

of Helsing’s servants, were intent on this most 

203 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


strange spectacle. Rudolf, turning his head over 
his shoulder, saw them; a moment later poor 
Helga saw them also. Innocent and untrained 
in controlling her feelings, she gave a shrill little 
cry of dismay, and hastily drew back. Rudolf 
looked round again. The ladies had retreated 
to the cover of the porch, but he still saw their 
eager faces peering from between the pillars that 
supported it. 

‘ ‘ I may as well go in now, ’ ’ said Rudolf, and 
in he sprang. There was a merry smile on his 
face as he ran forward to meet Helga, who leant 
against the table, pale and agitated. 

“ They saw you? ” she gasped. 

“Undoubtedly,” said he. Then his sense of 
amusement conquered everything else, and he 
sat down in a chair, laughing. 

“I’d give my life,” said he, “to hear the 
story that the Chancellor will be waked up to 
hear in a minute or two from now ! ’ ’ 

But a moment’s thought made him grave 
again. For whether he were the King or Ru- 
dolf Rassendyll, he knew that my wife’s name 
was in equal peril. Knowing this, he stood at 
nothing to serve her. He turned to her and 
spoke quickly. 

“You must rouse one of the servants at once. 
Send him round to the Chancellor’s and tell the 

Chancellor to come here directly. No, write a 

204 


THE CHANCELLORS WIFE 


note. Say the King has come by appointment 
to see Fritz on some private business, but that 
Fritz has not kept the appointment, and that the 
King must now see the Chancellor at once. Say 
there’s not a moment to lose. ” 

She was looking at him with wondering eyes. 

“Don’t you see,” he said, “if I can impose 
on Helsing, I may stop those women’s tongues? 
If nothing’s done, how long do you suppose it’ll 
be before all Strelsau knows that Fritz von Tar- 
lenheim’s wife let the King in at the window at 
five o’clock in the morning? ” 

“ I don’t understand,” murmured poor Helga 
in bewilderment. 

“No, my dear lady, but for heaven’s sake 
do what I ask of you. It’s the only chance 
now. 

“ I’ll do it,” she said, and sat down to write. 

Thus it was that, hard on the marvellous tid- 
ings which, as I conjecture, the Baroness von 
Helsing poured into her husband’s drowsy ears, 
came an imperative summons that the Chancellor 
should wait on the King at the house of Fritz 
von Tarlenheim. 

Truly we had tempted fate too far by bring- 
ing Rudolf Rassendyll again to Strelsau. 


14 


205 


CHAPTER XII 


BEFORE THEM ALL! 

Great as was the risk and immense as were the 
difficulties created by the course which Mr. Ras- 
sendyll adopted, I cannot doubt that he acted 
for the best in the light of the information which 
he possessed. His plan was to disclose himself 
to Helsing in the character of the King, to bind 
him to secrecy, and make him impose the same 
obligation on his wife, daughter, and servants. 
The Chancellor was to be quieted with the 
excuse of urgent business, and conciliated by a 
promise that he should know its nature in the 
course of a few hours ; meanwhile an appeal to 
his loyalty must suffice to ensure obedience. If 
all went well in the day that had now dawned, 
by the evening of it the letter would be de- 
stroyed, the Queen’s peril past, and Rudolf once 
more far away from Strelsau. Then enough of 
the truth — no more — must be disclosed. Hel- 
sing would be told the story of Rudolf Rassen- 
dyll and persuaded to hold his tongue about the 
harum-scarum Englishman (we are ready to 
believe much of an Englishman) having been 

audacious enough again to play the King in 

206 


BEFORE THEM ALL! 


Strelsau. The old Chancellor was a very good 
fellow, and I do not think that Rudolf did 
wrong in relying upon him. Where he miscal- 
culated was, of course, just where he was igno- 
rant. The whole of what the Queens friends, 
aye, and the Queen herself, did in Strelsau, 
became useless and mischievous by reason of the 
King’s death ; their action must have been 
utterly different, had they been aware of that 
catastrophe ; but their wisdom should be judged 
only according to their knowledge. 

In the first place the Chancellor himself 
showed much good sense. Even before he 
obeyed the King’s summons he sent for the two 
servants and charged them, on pain of instant 
dismissal and worse things to follow, to say 
nothing of what they had seen. His commands 
to his wife and daughter were more polite, 
doubtless, but no less peremptory. He may 
well have supposed that the King’s business was 
private as well as important when it led His 
Majesty to be roaming the streets of Strelsau at 
a moment when he was supposed to be at the 
Castle of Zenda, and to enter a friend’s house by 
the window at such untimely hours. The mere 
facts were eloquent of secrecy. Moreover the 
King had shaved his beard — the ladies were sure 
of it — and this again, though it might be merely 

an accidental coincidence, was also capable of 

207 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


signifying a very urgent desire to be unknown. 
So the Chancellor, having given his orders, and 
being himself aflame with the liveliest curiosity, 
lost no time in obeying the King’s commands, 
and arrived at my house before six o’clock. 

When the visitor was announced Rudolf was 
upstairs, having a bath and some breakfast. 
Helga had learnt her lesson well enough to 
entertain the visitor until Rudolf appeared. She 
was full of apologies for my absence, protesting 
that she could in no way explain it ; neither 
could she so much as conjecture what was the 
King’s business with her husband. She played 
the dutiful wife whose virtue was obedience, 
whose greatest sin would be an indiscreet prying 
into what it was not her part to know. 

“ I know no more,” she said, “ than that Fritz 
wrote to me to expect the King and him at 
about five o’clock, and to be ready to let them 
in by the window, as the King did not wish the 
servants to be aware of his presence.” 

The King came and greeted Helsing most 
graciously. The tragedy and comedy of these 
busy days were strangely mingled ; even now I 
can hardly help smiling when I picture Rudolf, 
with grave lips but that distant twinkle in his 
eye (I swear he enjoyed the sport), sitting down 
by the old Chancellor in the darkest corner of 

the room, covering him with flattery, hinting at 

208 


BEFORE THEM ALL! 


most strange things, deploring a secret obstacle 
to immediate confidence, promising that to- 
morrow, at latest, he would seek the advice of 
the wisest and most tried of his counsellors, 
appealing to the Chancellor’s loyalty to trust 
him till then. Helsing, blinking through his 
spectacles, followed with devout attention the 
long narrative that told nothing, and the urgent 
exhortation that masked a trick. His accents 
were almost broken with emotion as he put 
himself absolutely at the King’s disposal, and 
declared that he could answer for the discretion 
of his family and household as completely as 
for his own. 

“ Then you’re a very lucky man, my dear 
Chancellor,” said Rudolf, with a sigh which 
seemed to hint that the King in his palace 
was not so fortunate. Helsing was immensely 
pleased. He was all agog to go and tell his 
wife how entirely the King trusted to her honour 
and silence. 

There was nothing that Rudolf more desired 
than to be relieved, of the excellent old fellow’s 
presence ; but, well aware of the supreme impor- 
tance of keeping him in a good temper, he would 
not hear of his departure for a few minutes. 

“ At any rate the ladies won’t talk till after 
breakfast, and since they got home only at five 

o’clock they won’t breakfast yet awhile,” said he. 

209 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


So he made Helsing sit down, and talked to 
him. Rudolf had not failed to notice that the 
Count of Luzau-Rischenheim had been a little 
surprised at the sound of his voice ; in this con- 
versation he studiously kept his tones low, affect- 
ing a certain weakness and huskiness such as he 
had detected in the King’s utterances, as he lis- 
tened behind the curtain in Sapt’s room at the 
Castle. The part was played as completely and 
triumphantly as in the old days when he ran the 
gauntlet of every eye in Strelsau. Yet if he had 
not taken such pains to conciliate old Helsing, 
but had let him depart, he might not have found 
himself driven to a greater and even more haz- 
ardous deception. 

They were conversing together alone. My 
wife had been prevailed on by Rudolf to lie down 
in her room for an hour. Sorely needing rest, she 
had obeyed him, having first given strict orders 
that no member of the household should enter 
the room where the two were except on an 
express summons. Fearing suspicion, she and 
Rudolf had agreed that it was better to rely on 
these injunctions than to lock the door again, as 
they had the night before. 

But while these things passed at my house, 

the Queen and Bernenstein were on their way to 

Strelsau. Perhaps had Sapt been at Zenda, his 

powerful influence might have availed to check 

210 


BEFORE THEM ALL! 

the impulsive expedition ; Bernenstein had no 
such authority, and could only obey the Queen’s 
peremptory orders and pathetic prayers. Ever 
since Rudolf Rassendyll left her, three years be- 
fore, she had lived in stern self-repression, never 
her true self, never for a moment able to be or to 
do what every hour her heart urged on her. How 
are these things done? I doubt if a man lives 
who could do them ; but women live who do 
them. Now his sudden coming and the train of 
stirring events that accompanied it, his danger 
and hers, his words and her enjoyment of his 
presence, had all worked together to shatter her 
self-control ; and the strange dream, heightening 
the emotion which was its own cause, left her 
with no conscious desire save to be near Mr. 
Rassendyll, and scarcely with a fear except for 
his safety. As they journeyed her talk was all 
of his peril, never of the disaster which threatened 
herself, and which we were all striving with might 
and main to avert from her head. She travelled 
alone with Bernenstein, getting rid of the lady 
who attended her by some careless pretext, and 
she urged on him continually to bring her as 
speedily as might be to Mr. Rassendyll. I can- 
not find much blame for her. Rudolf stood for 
all the joy in her life, and Rudolf had gone to 
fight with the Count of Hentzau. What wonder 

that she saw him as it were dead ! Yet still she 

211 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


would have it that, in his seeming death, all men 
hailed him for their King. Well, it was her love 
that crowned him. 

As they reached the city, she grew more com- 
posed, being persuaded by Bernenstein that noth- 
ing in her bearing must rouse suspicion. Yet she 
was none the less resolved to seek Mr. Rassen- 
dyll at once. In truth she feared even then to 
find him dead, so strong was the hold of her 
dream on her : until she knew that he was alive 
she could not rest. Bernenstein, fearful that 
the strain would kill her or rob her of reason, 
promised everything ; and declared, with a confi- 
dence which he did not feel, that beyond doubt 
Mr. Rassendyll was alive and well. 

46 But where — where ? ” she cried eagerly, with 
clasped hands. 

44 We’re most likely, madame, to find him at 
Fritz von Tarlenheim’s,” answered the lieutenant. 
4 4 He would wait there till the time came to at- 
tack Rupert, or, if the thing is over, he will have 
returned there.” 

“Then let us drive there at once,” she urged. 

Bernenstein, however, persuaded her to go 
to the palace first and let it be known that she 
was going to pay a visit to my wife. She arrived 
at the palace at eight o’clock, took a cup of 
chocolate, and then ordered her carriage. Ber- 
nenstein alone accompanied her when she set out 

212 


BEFORE THEM ALL! 


for my house about nine. He was, by now, 
hardly less excited than the Queen herself. 

In her entire pre-occupation with Mr. Rassen- 
dyll, she gave little thought to what might have 
happened at the hunting-lodge ; but Bernenstein 
drew gloomy auguries from the failure of Sapt 
and myself to return at the proper time. Either 
evil had befallen us, or the letter had reached the 
King before we arrived at the lodge ; the proba- 
bilities seemed to him to be confined to these 
alternatives. Yet when he spoke in this strain 
to the Queen, he could get from her nothing 
except, “If we can find Mr. Rassendyll, he will 
tell us what to do.” 

Thus, then, a little after nine in the morning, 
the Queen’s carriage drove up to my door. The 
ladies of the Chancellor’s family had enjoyed a 
very short night’s rest, for their heads came 
bobbing out of window the moment the wheels 
were heard ; many people were about now, and 
the crown on the panels attracted the usual small 
crowd of loiterers. Bernenstein sprang out and 
gave his hand to the Queen. With a hasty 
slight bow to the on-lookers she hastened up the 
two or three steps of the porch, and with her 
own hand rang the bell. Inside, the carriage 
had just been observed. My wife’s waiting-maid 
ran hastily to her mistress : Helga was lying on 

her bed ; she rose at once, and after a few mo- 

213 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


ments of necessary preparations (or such prepara- 
tions as seem to ladies necessary, however great 
the need of haste may be) hurried downstairs, to 
receive Her Majesty — and to warn Her Majesty. 
She was too late. The door was already open. 
The butler and the footman both had run to it, 
and thrown it open for the Queen. As Helga 
reached the foot of the stairs, Her Majesty was 
just entering the room where Rudolf was, the 
servants attending her, and Bernenstein stand- 
ing behind, his helmet in his hand. 

Rudolf and the Chancellor had been continu- 
ing their conversation. To avoid the observation 
of passers-by (for the interior of the room is easy 
to see from the street), the blind had been drawn 
down, and the room was in deep shadow. They 
had heard the wheels, but neither of them dreamt 
that the visitor could be the Queen. It was an 
utter surprise to them when, without their orders, 
the door was suddenly flung open. The Chan- 
cellor, slow of movement and not, if I may say it, 
over-quick of brain, sat in his corner for half a 
minute or more before he rose to his feet. On 
the other hand Rudolf Rassendyll was the best 
part of the way across the room in an instant. 
Helga was at the door now, and she thrust her 
head round young Bernenstein’s broad shoulder. 
Thus she saw what happened. The Queen, for- 
getting the servants, and not observing Helsing 

214 


BEFORE THEM ALL! 


— seeming indeed to stay for nothing and to 
think of nothing, but to have her thoughts and 
heart filled with the sight of the man she loved 
and the knowledge of his safety — met him as 
he ran towards her, and, before Helga, or Ber- 
nenstein, or Rudolf himself, could stay her or 
conceive what she was about to do, caught both 
his hands in hers with an intense grasp, crying : 

“ Rudolf, you’re safe ! Thank God, oh, thank 
God ! ” and she carried his hands to her lips and 
kissed them passionately. 

A moment of absolute silence followed, dictated 
in the servants by decorum, in the Chancellor 
by consideration, in Helga and Bernenstein by 
utter consternation. Rudolf himself also was 
silent, but whether from bewilderment or an 
emotion answering to hers I know not. Either 
it might well be. The stillness struck her. She 
looked up in his eyes ; she looked round the 
room and saw Helsing, now bowing profoundly 
from the corner ; she turned her head with a sud- 
den frightened jerk and glanced at my motionless 
deferential servants. Then it came upon her 
what she had done. She gave a quick gasp for 
breath, and her face, always pale, went white as 
marble. Her features set in a strange stiffness, 
and suddenly she reeled where she stood, and fell 
forward. Only Rudolfs hand bore her up. Thus 

for a moment too short to reckon they stood. 

215 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


Then he, a smile of great love and pity coming 
on his lips, drew her to him and passing his arm 
about her waist thus supported her. Then, smil- 
ing still, he looked down on her, and said in a low 
tone, yet distinct enough for all to hear : 

“ All is well, dearest.” 

My wife gripped Bernenstein’s arm, and he 
turned to find her pale-faced too, with quivering 
lips and shining eyes. But the eyes had a mes- 
sage and an urgent one for him. He read it ; 
he knew that it bade him second what Rudolf 
Rassendyll had done. He came forward and ap- 
proached Rudolf ; then he fell on one knee, and 
kissed Rudolfs left hand that was extended to 
him. 

“ I’m very glad to see you, Lieutenant von 
Bernenstein,” said Rudolf Rassendyll. 

For the moment the thing was done, ruin 
averted, and safety secured. Everything had 
been at stake : that there was such a man as Ru- 
dolf Rassendyll might have been disclosed ; that 
he had once filled the King’s throne was a high 
secret which they were prepared to trust to H el- 
sing under stress of necessity ; but there remained 
something which must be hidden at all costs, and 
which the Queen’s passionate exclamation had 
threatened to expose. There was a Rudolf Ras- 
sendyll, and he had been King ; but, more than 

all this, the Queen loved him and he the Queen. 

216 


BEFORE THEM ALL! 


That could be told to none, not even to Helsing; 
for Helsing, though he would not gossip to the 
town, would yet hold himself bound to carry the 
matter to the King. So Rudolf chose to take 
any future difficulties rather than that present 
and certain disaster. Sooner than entail it on her 
he loved, he claimed for himself the place of her 
husband and the name of King. And she, clutch- 
ing at the only chance that her act left, was con- 
tent to have it so. It may be that for an instant 
her weary tortured brain found sweet rest in the 
dim dream that so it was, for she let her head lie 
there on his breast and her eyes closed, her face 
looking very peaceful, and a soft little sigh escap- 
ing in pleasure from her lips. 

But every moment bore its peril and exacted 
its effort. Rudolf led the Queen to a couch, and 
then briefly charged the servants not to speak of 
his presence for a few hours. As they had no 
doubt perceived, said he, from the Queen’s agita- 
tion, important business was on foot ; it demanded 
his presence in Strelsau, but required also that 
his presence should not be known. A short time 
would free them from the obligation which he 
now asked of their loyalty. When they had 
withdrawn, bowing obedience, he turned to Hel- 
sing, pressed his hand warmly, reiterated his re- 
quest for silence, and said that he would summon 

the Chancellor to his presence again later in the 

217 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


day, either where he was or at the palace. Then 
he bade all withdraw and leave him alone for a lit- 
tle with the Queen. He was obeyed, but Helsing 
had hardly left the house when Rudolf called 
Bernenstein back, and with him my wife. Helga 
hastened to the Queen, who was still sorely agi- 
tated ; Rudolf drew Bernenstein aside, and ex- 
changed with him all their news. Mr. Rassen- 
dyll was much disturbed at finding that no tidings 
had come from Colonel Sapt and myself, but his 
apprehension was greatly increased on learning 
the untoward accident by which the King himself 
had been at the lodge the night before. Indeed 
he was utterly in the dark ; where the King was, 
where Rupert, where we were, he did not know. 
And he was here in Strelsau, known as the King 
to half-a-dozen people or more, protected only by 
their promises, liable at any moment to be ex- 
posed by the coming of the King himself, or even 
by a message from him. 

Yet in face of all perplexities, perhaps even 
the more because of the darkness in which he 
was enveloped, Rudolf held firm to his pur- 
pose. There were two things that seemed plain. 
If Rupert had escaped the trap and was still alive 
with the letter on him, Rupert must be found; 
here was the first task. That accomplished, 
there remained for Rudolf himself nothing save 

to disappear as quietly and secretly as he had 

218 


BEFORE THEM ALL! 


come, trusting that his presence could be con- 
cealed from the man whose name he had usurped. 
Nay, if need were, the King must be told that 
Rudolf Rassendyll had played a trick on the 
Chancellor, and, having enjoyed his pleasure, was 
gone again. Everything could, in the last resort, 
be told, save that which touched the Queen’s 
honour. 

At this moment the message which I de- 
spatched from the station at Hofbau reached my 
house. There was a knock at the door. Bernen- 
stein opened it and took the telegram, which was 
addressed to my wife. I had written all that I 
dared to trust to such a means of communica- 
tion, and here it is : — 

“ I am coming to Strelsau. The King will not leave the 
lodge to-day. The Count came, but left before we arrived. 
I do not know whether he has gone to Strelsau. He gave 
no news to the King.” 

44 Then they didn’t get him ! ” cried Bernen- 
stein in deep disappointment. 

44 No, but 4 He gave no news to the King,’ ” 
said Rudolf triumphantly. 

They were all standing now round the Queen, 
who sat on the couch. She seemed very faint 
and weary, but at peace. It was enough for her 
that Rudolf fought and planned for her. 

44 And see this,” Rudolf went on: 44 4 The 

219 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


King will not leave the lodge to-day.’ Thank 
God, then, we have to-day ! ’ ’ 

“ Yes, but where’s Rupert? ” 

“ We shall know in an hour, if he’s in Strel- 
sau,” and Mr. Rassendyll looked as though it 
would please him well to find Rupert in Strel- 
sau. “ Yes, I must seek him. I shall stand at 
nothing to find him. If I can only get to him as 
the King, then I’ll be the King. We have to- 
day ! ” 

My message put them in heart again, although 
it left so much still unexplained. Rudolf turned 
to the Queen : 

“Courage, my Queen,” said he. “A few 
hours now will see an end of all our dangers. ’ ’ 

“ And then ? ’ ’ she asked. 

“Then you’ll be safe and at rest,” said he, 
bending over her and speaking softly. “ And 
I shall be proud in the knowledge of having 
saved you.” 

“ And you ? ’ ’ 

“ I must go,” Helga heard him whisper, as he 
bent lower still, and she and Bernenstein moved 
away. 


220 


CHAPTER XIII 


A KING UP HIS SLEEVE 

The tall handsome girl was taking down the 
shutters from the shop-front at No. 19 in the 
Konigstrasse. She went about her work languid- 
ly enough, but there was a tinge of dusky red 
on her cheeks, and her eyes were brightened by 
some suppressed excitement. Old Mother Holf, 
leaning against the counter, was grumbling 
angrily because Bauer did not come. Now it 
was not likely that Bauer would come just yet, 
for he was still in the infirmary attached to the 
police-cells, where a couple of doctors were very 
busy setting him on his legs again. The old 
woman knew nothing of this, but only that he 
had gone the night before to reconnoitre ; where 
he was to play the spy she did not know, on 
whom perhaps she guessed. 

“You’re sure he never came back?” she 
asked her daughter. 

“ He never came back that I saw,” answered 
the girl. “ And I was on the watch with my 
lamp here in the shop till it grew light. 

“ He’s twelve hours gone now, and never a 

message! Aye, and Count Bupert should be 
15 221 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


here soon, and he’ll be in a fine taking if Bauer’s 
not back.” 

The girl made no answer ; she had finished her 
task and stood in the doorway, looking out on 
the street. It was past eight, and many people 
were about, still for the most part humble folk ; 
the more comfortably placed would not be mov- 
ing for an hour or two yet. In the road the traf- 
fic consisted chiefly of country carts and wag- 
gons, bringing in produce for the day’s victualling 
of the great city. The girl watched the stream, 
but her thoughts were occupied with the stately 
gentleman who had come to her by night and 
asked a service of her. She had heard the re- 
volver shot outside ; as it sounded she had blown 
out her lamp, and there behind the door in the 
dark had heard the swiftly retreating feet of the 
fugitives and, a little later, the arrival of the pa- 
trol. Well, the patrol would not dare to touch 
the King ; as for Bauer, let him be alive or dead : 
what cared she, who was the King’s servant, able 
to help the King against his enemies ? If Bauer 
were the King’s enemy, right glad would she be 
to hear that the rogue was dead. How finely the 
King had caught him by the neck and thrown him 
out ! She laughed to think how little her mother 
knew the company she had kept that night. 

The row of country carts moved slowly by. 

One or two stopped before the shop, and the cart- 

222 


A KING UP HIS SLEEVE 


ers offered vegetables for sale. The old woman 
would have nothing to say to them, but waved 
them on irritably. Three had thus stopped and 
again proceeded, and an impatient grumble broke 
from the old lady as a fourth, a covered waggon, 
drew up before the door. 

“ We don’t want anything : go on, go on with 
you ! ” she cried shrilly. 

The carter got down from his seat without 
heeding her, and walked round to the back. 

“ Here you are, sir,” he cried. “ Nineteen, 
Konigstrasse.” 

A yawn was heard, and the long sigh a man 
gives as he stretches himself in the mingled lux- 
ury and pain of an awakening after sound re- 
freshing sleep. 

“All right; I’ll get down,” came in answer 
from inside. 

“ Ah, it’s the Count ! ” said the old lady to her 
daughter in satisfied tones. “ What will he say, 
though, about that rogue Bauer ? ” 

Rupert of Hentzau put his head out from un- 
der the waggon-tilt, looked up and down the 
street, gave the carter a couple of crowns, leapt 
down, and ran lightly across the pavement into 
the little shop. The waggon moved on. 

“ A lucky thing I met him,” said Rupert cheer- 
ily. “ The w T aggon hid me very well ; and hand- 
some as my face is, I can’t let Stielsau enjoy too 

223 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


much of it just now. Well, mother, what cheer ? 
And you, my pretty, how goes it with you ? ” 
He carelessly brushed the girl’s cheek with the 
glove that he had drawn off. “Faith, though, 
I beg your pardon,” he added a moment later : 
“ the glove’s not clean enough for that,” and he 
looked at his buff glove, which was stained with 
patches of dull rusty brown. 

“ It’s all as when you left, Count Rupert,” said 
Mother Holf, “ except that that rascal Bauer 
went out last night ” 

“ That’s right enough. But hasn’t he come 
back ? ” 

“ No, not yet.” 

“Hum. No signs of — anybody else?” His 
look defined the vague question. 

The old woman shook her head. The girl 
turned away to hide a smile. “ Anybody else ” 
meant the King, so she suspected. Well, they 
should hear nothing from her. The King him- 
self had charged her to be silent. 

“ But Rischenheim has come, I suppose ? ” pur- 
sued Rupert. 

“ Oh yes ; he came, my lord, soon after you 
went. He wears his arm in a sling.” 

“ Ah ! ” cried Rupert in sudden excitement. 
“ As I guessed ! The devil ! If only I could 
do everything myself, and not have to trust to 

fools and bunglers ! Where’s the Count ? ” 

224 


A KING UP HIS SLEEVE 


“ Why, in the attic. You know the way.” 

“ True. But I want some breakfast, mother.” 

“ Rosa shall serve you at once, my lord.” 

The girl followed Rupert up the narrow crazy 
staircase of the tall old house. They passed three 
floors, all uninhabited ; a last steep flight brought 
them right under the deep arched roof. Rupert 
opened a door that stood at the top of the stairs, 
and, followed still by Rosa with her mysterious 
happy smile, entered a long narrow room. The 
ceiling, high in the centre, sloped rapidly down 
on either side, so that at door and window it was 
little more than six feet above the floor. There 
was an oak table, and a few chairs ; a couple of 
iron bedsteads stood by the wall near the win- 
dow. One was empty; the Count of Luzau- 
Rischenheim lay on the other, fully dressed, his 
right arm supported in a sling of black silk. 
Rupert paused on the threshold, smiling at his 
cousin; the girl passed on to a high press or 
cupboard, and, opening it, took out plates, 
glasses, and the other furniture of the table. 
Rischenheim sprang up and ran across the 
room. 

“ What news ? ” he cried eagerly. “ You es- 
caped them, Rupert ? ’ ’ 

“ It appears so,” said Rupert airily; and, ad- 
vancing into the room, he threw himself into a 

chair, tossing his hat on to the table. “ It ap- 

225 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


pears that I escaped, although some fool’s stu- 
pidity nearly made an end of me. 

Rischenheim flushed. 

“I’ll tell you about that directly,” he said, 
glancing at the girl, who had put some cold meat 
and a bottle of wine on the table, and was now 
completing the preparations for Rupert’s meal in 
a very leisurely fashion. 

“ Had I nothing to do but look at pretty faces 
— which, by Heaven, I wish heartily were the 
case — I would beg you to stay,” said Rupert, ris- 
ing and making her a profound bow. 

“I’ve no wish to hear what doesn’t concern 
me,” she retorted scornfully. 

“ What a rare and blessed disposition ! ’ ’ said 
he, holding the door for her and bowing again. 

“I know what I know!” she cried to him 
triumphantly from the landing. “ Maybe you’d 
give something to know it too, Count Rupert ! ’ ’ 

“ It’s very likely, for, by Jove, girls know 
wonderful things ! ’ ’ smiled Rupert ; but he shut 
the door, and came quickly back to the table, 
now frowning again. “ Come, tell me, how did 
they make a fool of you, or why did you make a 
fool of me, cousin ? ’ ’ 

While Rischenheim related how he had been 
trapped and tricked at the Castle of Zenda, Ru- 
pert of Hentzau made a very good breakfast. 

He offered no interruption and no comments, 

226 


A KING UP HIS SLEEVE 


but when Rudolf Rassendyll came into the story 
he looked up for an instant with a quick jerk of 
his head and a sudden light in his eyes. The 
end of Rischenheim’s narrative found him toler- 
ant and smiling again. 

“Ah, well, the snare was cleverly set,” he 
said. “ I don’t wonder you fell into it.” 

“ And now you ? What happened to you ? ’ ’ 
asked Rischenheim eagerly. 

“ I ? Why, having your message which was 
not your message, I obeyed your directions which 
were not your directions. 

“ You went to the lodge ? ” 

“ Certainly. 

“ And found Sapt there ? — Anybody else ? ’ ’ 

“ Why, not Sapt at all. 

“Not Sapt? But surely they laid a trap for 

O ? 5 

you { 

“Very possibly, but the jaws didn’t bite.” 
Rupert crossed his legs and lit a cigarette. 

“ But what did you find ?” 

“ I ? I found the King’s forester, and the 
King’s boar-hound, and — well, I found the King 
himself too. 

“ The King at the lodge? ” 

“You weren’t so wrong as you thought, were 

o 5 5 

you 

“ But surely Sapt, or Bernenstein, or some one 
was with him ? ’ ’ 


227 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ As I tell you, his forester and his boar-hound. 
No other man or beast, on my honour.” 

“ Then you gave him the letter ? ” cried Risch- 
enheim, trembling with excitement. 

“ Alas, no, my dear cousin. I threw the box 
at him, but I don’t think he had time to open 
it. We didn’t get to that stage of the conver- 
sation at which I had intended to produce the 
letter.” 

“ But why not — why not ? ” 

Rupert rose to his feet, and, coming just op- 
posite to where Rischenheim sat, balanced him- 
self on his heels and looked down at his cousin, 
blowing the ash from his cigarette and smiling 
pleasantly. 

“ Have you noticed,” he asked, “that my coat’s 
torn ? ” 

“ I see it is.” 

“Yes. The boar-hound tried to bite me, 
cousin. And the forester would have stabbed 
me. And — well, the King wanted to shoot me.” 

“ Yes, yes ! For God’s sake, what happened?” 

“Well, they none of them did what they 
wanted. That’s what happened, dear cousin.” 

Rischenheim was staring at him now with wide- 
opened eyes. Rupert smiled down on him com- 
posedly. 

“ Because, you see,” he added, “ Heaven helped 

me. So that, my dear cousin, the dog will bite 

228 


A KING UP HIS SLEEVE 


no more, and the forester will stab no more. 
Surely the country is well rid of them ? ” 

A silence followed. Then Rischenheim, lean- 
ing forward, said in a low whisper, as though 
afraid to hear his own question, 

“And the King ? ” 

“ The King ? Well, the King will shoot no 
more.” 

For a moment Rischenheim, still leaning for- 
ward, gazed at his cousin. Then he sank slowly 
back into his chair. 

“ My God ! ” he murmured : “ my God ! ” 

“ The King was a fool,” said Rupert. “ Come, 
I’ll tell you a little more about it.” He drew a 
chair up and seated himself in it. 

While he talked Rischenheim seemed hardly 
to listen. The story gained in effect from the 
contrast of Rupert’s airy telling ; his companion’s 
pale face and twitching hands tickled his fancy 
to more shameless jesting. But when he had 
finished, he gave a pull to his small smartly- 
curled moustache, and said with a sudden 
gravity : 

“ After all, though, it’s a serious matter.” 

Rischenheim was appalled at the issue. His 
cousin’s influence had been strong enough to 
lead him into the affair of the letter ; he was 
aghast to think how Rupert’s reckless dare- 

devilry had led on from stage to stage till the 

229 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


death of a King seemed but an incident in 
his schemes. He sprang suddenly to his feet, 
crying : 

4 4 But we must fly — we must fly ! ” 

44 No, we needn’t fly. Perhaps we’d better go, 
but we needn’t fly. ” 

“ But when it becomes known ? ” He 

broke off, and then cried : 44 Why did you tell 
me? Why did you come back here? ” 

44 W ell, I told you because it was interesting, 
and I came back here because I had no money 
to go elsewhere. ” 

“ I would have sent money.” 

“ I find that I can get more when I ask in per- 
son. Besides, is everything finished? ” 

“ I’ll have no more to do with it.” 

44 Ah, my dear cousin, you despond too soon. 
The good King is unhappily gone from us, but 
we still have our dear Queen. We have also, 
by the kindness of Heaven, our dear Queen’s 
letter. ” 

44 I’ll have no more to do with it.” 

44 Your neck feeling . . .?” Rupert deli- 

cately imitated the putting of a noose about a 
man’s throat. 

Rischenheim rose suddenly and flung the win- 
dow open wide. 

44 I’m suffocated,” he muttered with a sullen 

frown, avoiding Rupert’s eyes. 

230 ' 


A KING UP HIS SLEEVE 


“Where’s Rudolf Rassendyll? ” asked Rupert. 
“ Have you heard of him? ” 

“No, I don’t know where he is.” 

“ We must find that out, I think.” 

Rischenheim turned abruptly on him. 

“ I had no hand in this thing,” he said, “ and 
I’ll have no more to do with it. I was not there. 
What did I know of the King being there ? I’m 
not guilty of it: on my soul, I know nothing 
of it.” 

“ That’s all very true,” nodded Rupert. 

“ Rupert,” cried he, “ let me go, let me alone ! 
If you want money, 1 11 give it you. For God’s 
sake take it, and get out of Strelsau ! ” 

“ I’m ashamed to beg, my dear cousin, but in 
fact I want a little money until I can contrive to 
realise my valuable property. Is it safe, I won- 
der? Ah, yes, here it is.” 

He drew from his inner pocket the Queen’s 
letter. “ Now if the King hadn’t been a fool! ” 
he murmured regretfully, as he regarded it. 

Then he walked across to the window and 
looked out; he could not himself be seen from 
the street, and nobody was visible at the win- 
dows opposite. Men and women passed to and 
fro on their daily labours or pleasures ; there was 
no unusual stir in the city. Looking across the 
roofs, Rupert could see the royal standard float- 
ing in the wind over the palace and barracks. 

231 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


He took out his watch; Rischenheim imitated 
his action : it was ten minutes to ten. 

“ Rischenheim,” he called, “ come here a mo- 
ment. Here — look out.” 

Rischenheim obeyed, and Rupert let him look 
for a minute or two before speaking again. 

“ Do you see anything remarkable? ” he asked 
then. 

“No, nothing,” answered Rischenheim, still 
curt and sullen in his fright. 

“Well, no more do I. And that’s very odd. 
For don’t you think that Sapt or some other of 
Her Majesty’s friends must have gone to the 
lodge last night? ” 

“ They meant to, I swear,” said Rischenheim 
with sudden attention. 

“ Then they would have found the King. 
There’s a telegraph wire at Hofbau, only a few 
miles away. And it’s ten o’clock. My cousin, 
why isn’t Strelsau mourning for our lamented 
King? Why aren’t the flags at half-mast? I 
don’t understand it.” 

“ No,” murmured Rischenheim, his eyes now 
fixed on his cousin’s face. 

Rupert broke into a smile and tapped his teeth 
with his fingers. 

“ I wonder,” said he meditatively, “ if that old 
player Sapt has got a king up his sleeve again? 

If that were so ” He stopped and seemed 

232 


A KING UP HIS SLEEVE 


to fall into deep thought. Rischenheim did not 
interrupt him, but stood looking now at him, 
now out of the window. Still there was no stir 
in the streets, and still the standards floated at 
the summit of the flagstaffs. The King’s death 
was not yet known in Strelsau. 

“ Where’s Bauer? ” asked Rupert suddenly. 
“ Where the plague can Bauer be? He was my 
eyes. Here we are, cooped up, and I don’t 
know what’s going on.” 

“ I don’t know where he is. Something must 
have happened to him.” 

“ Of course, my wise cousin. But what? ” 

Rupert began to walk up and down the room, 
smoking another cigarette at a great pace. Risch- 
enheim sat down by the table, resting his head 
on his hand. He was wearied out by strain and 
excitement, his wounded arm pained him greatly, 
and he was full of horror and remorse at the event 
which had happened unknown to him the night 
before. 

“ I wish I was quit of it,” he moaned at last. 

Rupert stopped before him. 

“You repent of your misdeeds?” he asked. 
“Well then, you shall be allowed to repent. 
Nay, you shall go and tell the King that you re- 
pent. Rischenheim, I must know what they are 
doing. You must go and ask an audience of the 
King.” 


233 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ But the King is ” 

“We shall know that better when you’ve 
asked for your audience. See here.” 

Rupert sat down by his cousin and instructed 
him in his task. This was no other than to dis- 
cover whether there were a King in Strelsau, or 
whether the only King lay dead in the hunt- 
ing-lodge. If there were no attempt being 
made to conceal the King’s death, Rupert’s plan 
was to seek safety in flight. He did not aban- 
don his designs : from the secure vantage of for- 
eign soil he would hold the Queen’s letter over 
her head, and by the threat of publishing it en- 
sure at once immunity for himself and almost 
any further terms which he chose to exact from 
her. If, on the other hand, the Count of Luzau- 
Rischenheim found a King in Strelsau, if the 
royal standards continued to wave at the sum- 
mit of their flagstaff's, and Strelsau knew noth- 
ing of the dead man in the lodge, then Rupert 
had laid his hand on another secret ; for he knew 
who the King in Strelsau must be. Starting 
from this point, his audacious mind darted for- 
ward to new and bolder schemes. He could 
offer again to Rudolf Rassendyll what he had 
offered once before, three years ago — a partner- 
ship in crime and the profits of crime — or if 
this advance were refused, then he declared that 
he would himself descend openly into the streets 


A KING UP HIS SLEEVE 


of Strelsau and proclaim the death of the King 
from the steps of the Cathedral. 

“Who can tell,” he cried, springing up, en- 
raptured and merry with the inspiration of his 
plan, “ who can tell whether Sapt or I came to 
the lodge first? Who found the King alive, 
Sapt or I? Who left him dead, Sapt or I? 
Who had most interest in killing him — I, who 
only sought to make him aware of what touched 
his honour, or Sapt, who was and is hand and 
glove with the man that now robs him of his 
name and usurps his place while his body is still 
warm? Ah, they haven’t done with Rupert of 
Hentzau yet ! ’ ’ 

He stopped, looking down on his companion. 
Rischenheim’s fingers still twitched nervously 
and his cheeks were pale. But now his face 
was alight with interest and eagerness. Again 
the fascination of Rupert’s audacity and the 
infection of his courage caught on his kins- 
man’s weaker nature, and inspired him to a 
temporary emulation of the will that dominated 
him. 

“You see, ’ ’ pursued Rupert, ‘ 4 it’s not likely 
that they’ll do you any harm. 

“ I’ll risk anything.” 

“Most gallant gentleman! At the worst 

they’ll only keep you a prisoner. W ell, if you’re 

not back in a couple of hours, I shall draw my 

235 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


conclusions. I shall know that there’s a King in 
Strelsau. 

“ But where shall I look for the King? ” 

“Why, first in the palace, and secondly at 
Fritz von Tarlenheim’s. I expect you will find 
him at Fritz’s, though.” 

“ Shall I go there first, then ? ” 

“No. That would be seeming to know too 
much. 

“ You’ll wait here? ” 

“Certainly, cousin — unless I see cause to 
move, you know.” 

4 ‘ And I shall find you on my return ? ’ ’ 

“Me, or directions from me. By the way, 
bring money too. There’s never any harm in 
having a full pocket. I wonder what the devil 
does without a breeches pocket ! ” 

Rischenheim let that curious speculation 
alone, although he remembered the whimsical 
air with which Rupert delivered it. He was 
now on fire to be gone, his ill- balanced brain 
leaping from the depths of despondency to the 
certainty of brilliant success, and not heeding 
the gulf of danger that it surpassed in buoyant 
fancy. 

“ We shall have them in a corner, Rupert! ” 
he cried. 

“ Aye, perhaps. But wild beasts in a corner 
bite hard. 


236 


A KING UP HIS SLEEVE 


‘ 4 1 wish my arm were well ! ’ ’ 

“ You’ll be safer with it wounded,” said Ru- 
pert with a smile. 

4 4 By God, Rupert, I can defend myself. ’ ’ 

44 True, true; but it’s your brain I want now, 
cousin. 

44 You shall see that I have something in me.” 

44 If it please God, dear cousin.” 

With every mocking encouragement and every 
careless taunt Rischenheim’s resolve to prove 
himself a man grew stronger. He snatched up 
a revolver that lay on the mantelpiece and put it 
in his pocket. 

44 Don’t fire, if you can help it,” advised Ru- 
pert. 

Rischenheim’s answer was to make for the 
door at a great speed. Rupert watched him go, 
and then returned to the window. The last his 
cousin saw was his figure standing straight and 
lithe against the light, while he looked out on 
the city. Still there was no stir in the streets, 
still the royal standard floated at the top of the 
flagstaflPs. 

Rischenheim plunged down the stairs : his 
feet were too slow for his eagerness. At the 
bottom he found the girl Rosa sweeping the pas- 
sage with great apparent diligence. 

44 You’re going out, my lord ? ” she asked. 

44 Why, yes ; I have business. Pray stand 
16 237 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

on one side, this passage is so cursedly nar- 
row. ’ ’ 

Rosa showed no haste in moving. 

“ And Count Rupert, is he going out also ? ’ ’ 
she asked. 

“ You see he’s not with me. He’ll wait ” 

Rischenheim broke off, and asked angrily, 
“ What business is it of yours, girl ? Get out of 
the way ! ” 

She moved aside now, making him no answer. 
He rushed past ; she looked after him with a 
smile of triumph. Then she fell again to her 
sweeping. The King had bidden her to be 
ready at eleven. It was half-past ten. Soon 
the King would have need of her. 


238 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE NEWS COMES TO STRELSAU 

On leaving No. 19, Rischenheim walked swiftly 
some little way up the Konigstrasse, and then 
hailed a cab. He had hardly raised his hand when 
he heard his name called, and, looking round, 
saw Anton von Strofzin’s smart phaeton pulling 
up beside him. Anton was driving, and on the 
other seat was a large nosegay of choice flowers. 

“Where are you off to?” cried Anton, lean- 
ing forward with a gay smile. 

“Well, where are you? To a lady’s, I pre- 
sume, from your bouquet there,” answered 
Rischenheim, as lightly as he could. 

“ The little bunch of flowers,” simpered young 
Anton, “is a cousinly offering to Helga von 
Tarlenheim, and I’m going to present it. Can I 
give you a lift anywhere ? ” 

Although Rischenheim had intended to go 
first to the palace, Anton’s offer seemed to give 
him a good excuse for drawing the more likely 
covert first. 

“ I was going to the palace, to find out where 
the King is. I want to see him, if he’ll give me 

a minute or two,” he remarked. 

239 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“I’ll drive you there afterwards. Jump up. 
That your cab? Here you are, cabman,” and, 
flinging the cabman a crown, he displaced the 
bouquet and made room for Rischenheim beside 
him. 

Anton’s horses, of which he was not a little 
proud, made short work of the distance to my 
home. The phaeton rattled up to the door, and 
both the young men got out. The moment of 
their arrival found the Chancellor just leaving to 
return to his own house. Helsing knew them 
both, and stopped to rally Anton on the matter 
of his bouquet. Anton was famous for his bou- 
quets, which he distributed widely among the 
ladies of Strelsau. 

“I hoped it was for my daughter,” said the 
Chancellor slyly. “ For I love flowers, and my 
wife has ceased to provide me with them ; more- 
over I’ve ceased to provide her with them — so 
but for my daughter we should have none.” 

Anton answered his chaff, promising a bou- 
quet for the young lady the next day, but declar- 
ing that he could not disappoint his cousin. He 
was interrupted by Rischenheim, who, looking 
round on the group of bystanders, now grown 
numerous, exclaimed : 

“ What’s going on here, my dear Chancellor ? 
What are all these people hanging about here 

for ? Ah, that’s a royal carriage ! ” 

240 


THE NEWS COMES TO STRELSAU 

“ The Queens with the Countess,” answered 
Helsing. “ The people are waiting to see her 
come out.” 

“ She’s always worth seeing,” Anton pro- 
nounced, sticking his glass in his eye. 

“And you’ve been to visit her?” pursued 
Rischenheim. 

“ Why, yes. I — I went to pay my respects, 
my dear Rischenheim.” 

“ An early visit ! ” 

“ It was more or less on business.” 

“ Ah, I have business also, and very important 
business. But it’s with the King.” 

“ I won’t keep you a moment, Rischenheim,” 
called Anton, as, bouquet in hand, he knocked 
at the door. 

“ With the King ? ” said Helsing. “ Ah, yes, 
but the King ” 

“I’m on my way to the palace to find out 
where he is. If I can’t see him, I must write at 
once. My business is very urgent.” 

“ Indeed, my dear Count, indeed ! Dear me ! 
Urgent, you say ? ” 

“ But perhaps you can help me. Is he at 
Zenda ? ” 

The Chancellor was becoming very em- 
barrassed ; Anton had disappeared into the 
house ; Rischenheim buttonholed him reso- 
lutely. 


241 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“At Zenda? Well, now, I don’t Ex- 

cuse me, but what’s your business ? ” 

“Excuse me, my dear Chancellor: it’s a 
secret.” 

“ I have the King’s confidence.” 

“Then you’ll be indifferent to not enjoying 
mine,” smiled Rischenheim. 

“I perceive that your arm is hurt,” observed 
the Chancellor, seeking a diversion. 

4 4 Between ourselves, that has something to do 
with my business. Well, I must go to the 
palace. Or — stay — would Her Majesty con- 
descend to help me ? I think I’ll risk a request. 
She can but refuse,” and so saying Rischenheim 
approached the door. 

44 Oh, my friend, I wouldn’t do that,” cried 
Helsing, darting after him. 4 4 The Queen is — 
well, very much engaged. She won’t like to be 
troubled.” 

Rischenheim took no notice of him, but 
knocked loudly. The door was opened, and he 
told the butler to carry his name to the Queen 
and beg a moment’s speech with her. Helsing 
stood in perplexity on the steps. The crowd 
was delighted with the coming of these great 
folk and showed no sign of dispersing. Anton 
von Strofzin did not reappear. Rischenheim 
edged himself inside the doorway and stood on 

the threshold of the hall. There he heard voices 

242 


THE NEWS COMES TO STRELSAU 


s*-i> 


proceeding from the sitting-room on the left. 
He recognised the Queen’s, my wife’s, and An- 
ton’s. Then came the butler’s, saying : 

“I will inform the Count of Your Majesty’s 
wishes.” 

The door of the room opened ; the butler ap- 
peared, and immediately behind him Anton von 
Strofzin and Bernenstein. Bernenstein had the 
young fellow by the arm, and hurried him 
through the hall. They passed the butler, who 
made way for them, and came to where Bischen- 
heim stood. 

“ We meet again,” said Bischenheim with a bow. 

The Chancellor rubbed his hands in nervous 
perturbation. The butler stepped up and de- 
livered his message : the Queen regretted her 
inability to receive the Count. Bischenheim 
nodded, and, standing so that the door could not 
be shut, asked Bernenstein whether he knew 
where the King was. 

Now Bernenstein was most anxious to get the 
pair of them away and the door shut, but he 
dared show no eagerness. 

‘ ‘ Do you want another interview with the 
King already ? ” he asked with a smile. “The 
last was so pleasant, then ? ” 

Bischenheim took no notice of the taunt, but 
observed sarcastically : 

“There’s a strange difficulty in finding our 

243 


•a 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


good King. The Chancellor here doesn’t know 
where he is, or at least he won’t answer my 
questions.” 

44 Possibly the King has his reasons for not 
wishing to be disturbed,” suggested Bernenstein. 

“ It’s very possible,” retorted Rischenheim 
significantly. 

44 Meanwhile, my dear Count, I shall take it as 
a personal favour if you’ll move out of the door- 
way.” 

“ Do I incommode you by standing here ? ” 
asked the Count. 

64 Infinitely, my lord,” answered Bernenstein 
stiffly. 

44 Hullo, Bernenstein, what’s the matter ? ” 
cried Anton, seeing that their tones and glances 
had grown angry. The crowd also had noticed 
the raised voices and hostile manner of the 
disputants, and began to gather round in a more 
compact group. 

Suddenly a voice came from inside the hall ; it 
was distinct and loud, yet not without a touch of 
huskiness. The sound of it hushed the rising 
quarrel and silenced the crowd into expectant 
stillness. Bernenstein looked aghast, Rischen- 
heim nervous yet triumphant, Anton amused 
and gratified. 

44 The King ! ” he cried, and burst into a laugh. 

44 You’ve drawn him, Rischenheim ! ” 

244 


THE NEWS COMES TO STRELSAU 

The crowd heard his boyish exclamation and 
raised a cheer. Helsing turned as though to 
rebuke them. Had not the King himself de- 
sired secrecy? Yes, but he who spoke as the 
King chose any risk sooner than let Risch- 
enheim go back and warn Rupert of his pres- 
ence. 

“ Is that the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim ? ” 
called Rudolf from within. “ If so, let him enter 
and then shut the door.” 

There was something in his tone that alarmed 
Rischenheim. He started back on the step. 
But Bernenstein caught him by the arm. 

“ Since you wished to come in, come in,” he 
said with a grim smile. 

Rischenheim looked round, as though he medi- 
tated flight. The next moment Bernenstein was 
thrust aside. For one short instant a tall figure 
appeared in the doorway ; the crowd had but a 
glimpse, yet they cheered again. Rischenheim’s 
hand was clasped in a firm grip ; he passed un- 
willingly but helplessly through the door. Ber- 
nenstein followed ; the door was shut. Anton 
faced round on Helsing, a scornful twist on his 
lips. 

“ There was a deuced lot of mystery about 
nothing,” said he. “ Why couldn’t you say he 
was there ? ” And without waiting for an an- 
swer from the outraged and bewildered Chan- 

245 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


cellor he swung down the steps and climbed into 
his phaeton. 

The people round were chatting noisily, de- 
lighted to have caught a glimpse of the King, 
speculating what brought him and the Queen to 
my house, and hoping that they would soon 
come out and get into the royal carriage that 
still stood waiting. 

Had they been able to see inside the door, 
their emotion would have been stirred to a 
keener pitch. Rudolf himself caught Rischen- 
heim by the arm, and without a moment’s delay 
led him towards the back of the house. They 
went along a passage and reached a small room 
that looked out on the garden. Rudolf had 
known my house in old days, and did not for- 
get its resources. 

“ Shut the door, Bernenstein,” said Rudolf. 
Then he turned to Rischenheim. “ My lord,” 
he said, “ I suppose you came to find out some- 
thing. Do you know it now ? ” 

Rischenheim plucked up courage to answer 
him. 

“Yes, I know now that I have to deal with 
an impostor,” said he defiantly. 

“ Precisely. And impostors cannot afford to 
be exposed.” 

Rischenheim’s cheek turned rather pale. Ru- 
dolf faced him, and Bernenstein guarded the 

246 


I 


THE NEWS COMES TO STRELSAU 


door. He was absolutely at their mercy; and he 
knew their secret. Did they know his — the 
news that Rupert of Hentzau had brought ? 

“ Listen,” said Rudolf. “For a few hours to- 
day I am King in Strelsau. In those few hours 
I have an account to settle with your cousin ; 
something that he has, I must have. I’m going 
now to seek him, and while I seek him you will 
stay here with Bernenstein. Perhaps I shall fail, 
perhaps I shall succeed. Whether I succeed or 
fail, by to-night I shall be far from Strelsau, and 
the King’s place will be free for him again.” 

Rischenheim gave a slight start, and a look of 
triumph spread over his face. They did not 
know that the King was dead. 

Rudolf came nearer to him, fixing his eyes 
steadily on his prisoner’s face. 

“ I don’t know,” he continued, “ why you are 
in this business, my lord. Your cousin’s motives 
I know well. But I wonder that they seemed 
to you great enough to justify the ruin of an 
unhappy lady, who is your Queen. Be assured 
that I will die sooner than let that letter reach 
the King’s hand.” 

Rischenheim made him no answer. 

“ Are you armed ? ” asked Rudolf. 

Rischenheim sullenly flung his revolver on the 
table. Bernenstein came forward and took it. 

“ Keep him here, Bernenstein. When I re- 

247 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


turn I’ll tell you what more to do. If I don’t 
return, Fritz will be here soon, and you and he 
must make your own plans.” 

“ He shan’t give me the slip a second time,” 
said Bernenstein. 

“ We hold ourselves free,” said Rudolf to 
Rischenheim, “to do what we please with you, 
my lord. But I have no wish to cause your 
death, unless it be necessary. You will be wise 
to wait till your cousin’s fate is decided before 
you attempt any further steps against us.” And 
with a slight bow he left the prisoner in Bernen- 
stein’s charge, and went back to the room where 
the Queen awaited him. Helga was with her. 
The Queen sprang up to meet him. 

“ I mustn’t lose a moment,” he said. “ All 
that crowd of people know now that the King is 
here. The news will filter through the town in 
no time. We must send word to Sapt to keep 
it from the King’s ears at all costs : I must go 
and do my work, and then disappear.” 

The Queen stood facing him. Her eyes 
seemed to devour his face ; but she said only : 

“ Yes, it must be so.” 

“ You must return to the palace as soon as I 
am gone. I shall send out and ask the people 
to disperse, and then I must be off.” 

“To seek Rupert of Hentzau ? ” 

“ Yes.” 


248 


THE NEWS COMES TO STRELSAU 


She struggled for a moment with the contend- 
ing feelings that filled her heart. Then she came 
to him and seized hold of his hand. 

“ Don’t go,” she said, in low trembling tones. 
44 Don’t go, Rudolf. He’ll kill you. Never mind 
the letter. Don’t go : I had rather a thousand 
times that the King had it than that you should. 
. . . Oh, my dear, don’t go ! ” 

44 1 must go,” he said softly. 

Again she began to implore him, but he would 
not yield. Helga moved towards the door, but 
Rudolf stopped her. 

44 No,” he said, “you must stay with her, you 
must go to the palace with her.” 

Even as he spoke they heard the wheels of a 
carriage driven quickly to the door. By now I 
had met Anton von Strofzin and heard from him 
that the King was at my house. As I dashed 
up, the news was confirmed by the comments 
and jokes of the crowd. 

44 Ah, he’s in a hurry,” they said. 44 He’s kept 
the King waiting. He’ll get a wigging.” 

As may be supposed, I paid little heed to them. 
I sprang out and ran up the steps to the door. I 
saw my wife’s face at the window : she herself 
ran to the door and opened it for me. 

44 Good God,” I whispered, 44 do all these 
people know he’s here, and take him for the 
King ? ” 


249 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“Yes,” she said. “We couldn’t help it, he 
showed himself at the door.” 

It was worse then I dreamt : not two or three 
people, but all that crowd were victims of the 
mistake ; all of them had heard that the King 
was in Strelsau — aye, and had seen him. 

“ Where is he ? Where is he ? ” I asked, and 
followed her hastily to the room. 

The Queen and Rudolf were standing side by 
side. What I have told from Helga’s description 
had just passed between them. Rudolf ran to 
meet me. 

“Is all well ? ” he asked eagerly. 

I forgot the Queen’s presence and paid no 
sign of respect to her. I caught Rudolf by the 
arm and cried to him : 

“Do they take you for the King ? ” 

“Yes,” he said. “Heavens, man, don’t look 
so white ! We shall manage it. I can be gone 
by to-night.” 

“ Gone ? How will that help, since they be- 
lieve you to be the King ? ” 

“ You can keep it from the King,” he urged. 
“ I couldn’t help it. I can settle with Rupert 
and disappear.” 

The three were standing round me, surprised 
at my great and terrible agitation. Looking 
back now, I wonder that I could speak to them 
at all. 


250 


THE NEWS COMES TO STRELSAU 


Rudolf tried again to reassure me. He little 
knew the cause of what he saw. 

“ It won’t take long to settle affairs with Ru- 
pert,” said he. “ And we must have the letter, 
or it will get to the King after all.” 

“ The King will never see the letter,” I blurted 
out, as I sank back in a chair. 

They said nothing. I looked round on their 
faces. I had a strange feeling of helplessness, 
and seemed to be able to do nothing but throw 
the truth at them in blunt plainness. Let them 
make what they could of it, I could make 
nothing. 

“ The King will never see the letter,” I re- 
peated. “ Rupert himself has ensured that.” 

“ What do you mean ? You’ve not met Ru- 
pert ? You’ve not got the letter ? ” 

“No, no; but the King can never read it.” 

Then Rudolf seized me by the shoulder and 
fairly shook me ; indeed I must have seemed like 
a man in a dream or a torpor. 

“ Why not, man, why not ? ” he asked in 
urgent, low tones. 

Again I looked at them, but somehow this 
time my eyes were attracted and held by the 
Queen’s face. I believe that she was the first 
to catch a hint of the tidings I brought. 
Her lips were parted, and her gaze eagerly 

strained upon me. I rubbed my hand across 

251 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

my forehead, and looking up stupidly at her 
I said : 

44 He can never see the letter. He’s dead.” 

There was a little scream from Helga ; Rudolf 
neither spoke nor moved ; the Queen continued 
to gaze at me in motionless wonder and horror. 

44 Rupert killed him,” said I. “ The boar-hound 
attacked Rupert ; then Herbert and the King at- 
tacked him ; and he killed them all. Yes, the 
King is dead. He’s dead.” 

Now none spoke. The Queen’s eyes never left 
my face. 

44 Yes, he’s dead ! ” said I ; and I watched her 
eyes still. For a long while (or long it seemed) 
they were on my face ; at last, as though drawn 
by some irresistible force, they turned away. I 
followed the new line they took. She looked at 
Rudolf Rassendyll, and he at her. Helga had 
taken out her handkerchief, and, utterly upset by 
the horror and shock, was lying back in a low 
chair, sobbing half-hysterically ; I saw the swift 
look that passed from the Queen to her lover, 
carrying in it grief, remorse, and most unwilling 
joy. He did not speak to her, but put out his 
hand and took hers. She drew it away almost 
sharply, and covered her face with both hands. 
Rudolf turned to me. 

4 4 When was it ? ” 

44 Last night.” 


252 


THE NEWS COMES TO STRELSAU 


“ And the . . . He’s at the lodge ? ” 

“ Yes, with Sapt and James.” 

I was recovering my senses and my coolness. 

“Nobody knows yet,” I said. “We were 
afraid you might be taken for him by somebody. 
But, my God, Rudolf, what’s to be done now ? ” 

Mr. Rassendyll’s lips were set firm and tight. 
He frowned slightly, and his blue eyes wore a 
curious entranced expression. He seemed to me 
to be forgetful of everything, even of us who were 
with him, in some one idea that possessed him. 
The Queen herself came nearer to him and lightly 
touched his arm with her hand. He started as 
though surprised, then fell again into his reverie. 

“ What’s to be done, Rudolf ? ” I asked again. 

“ I’m going to kill Rupert of Hentzau,” he 
said. “ The rest we’ll talk of afterward.” 

He walked rapidly across the room and rang 
the bell. 

“ Clear those people away,” he ordered. “ Tell 
them that I want to be quiet. Then send a closed 
carriage round for me. Don’t be more than ten 
minutes.” 

The servant received his peremptory orders 
with a low bow, and left us. The Queen, who 
had been all this time outwardly calm and com- 
posed, now fell into a great agitation, which even 
the consciousness of our presence could not enable 

her to hide. 

17 


253 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“Rudolf, must you go? Since — since this 
has happened ” 

“Hush, my dearest lady,” he whispered. 
Then he went on more loudly : “ I won’t quit 
Ruritania a second time leaving Rupert of Hent- 
zau alive. Fritz, send word to Sapt that the 
King is in Strelsau — he will understand — and that 
instructions from the King will follow by midday. 
When I have killed Rupert, I shall visit the 
lodge on my way to the frontier.” 

He turned to go, but the Queen, following, 
detained him for a minute. 

“ You’ll come and see me before you go? ” she 
pleaded. 

“ But I ought not,” said he, his resolute eyes 
suddenly softening in a marvellous fashion. 

“ You will? ” 

“ Yes, my Queen.” 

Then I sprang up, for a sudden dread laid hold 
on me. 

“Heavens, man,” I cried, “what if he kills 
you — there in the Ivonigstrasse? ” 

Rudolf turned to me ; there was a look of sur- 
prise on his face. 

“ He won’t kill me,” he answered. 

The Queen, looking still in Rudolf’s face, and 
forgetful now, as it seemed, of the dream that 
had so terrified her, took no notice of what I 
said, but urged again : 


254 


THE NEWS COMES TO STRELSAU 


44 You’ll come, Rudolf?” 

44 Yes, once, my Queen,” and with a last kiss 
of her hand he was gone. 

The Queen stood for yet another moment 
where she was, still and almost rigid. Then sud- 
denly she walked or stumbled to where my wife 
sat, and, flinging herself on her knees, hid her 
face in Helga’s lap; I heard her sobs break 
out fast and tumultuously. Helga looked up at 
me, the tears streaming down her cheeks. I 
turned and went out. Perhaps Helga could 
comfort her; I prayed that God in His pity 
might send her comfort, although she for her 
sin’s sake dared not ask it of Him. Poor soul! 
I hope there may be nothing worse scored to my 
account. 


255 


CHAPTER XV 


A PASTIME FOR COLONEL SAPT 

The Constable of Zenda and James, Mr. Ras- 
sendyll’s servant, sat at breakfast in the hunting- 
lodge. They were in the small room which was 
ordinarily used as the bedroom of the gentleman 
in attendance on the King: they chose it now 
because it commanded a view of the approach. 
The door of the house was securely fastened: 
they were prepared to refuse admission ; in case 
refusal were impossible, the preparations for con- 
cealing the King’s body and that of his hunts- 
man Herbert were complete. Inquirers would 
be told that the King had ridden out with his 
huntsman at daybreak, promising to return in 
the evening, but not stating where he was going ; 
Sapt was under orders to await his return, and 
James was expecting instructions from his master 
the Count of Tarlenheim. Thus armed against 
discovery, they looked for news from me which 
should determine their future action. 

Meanwhile there was an interval of enforced 
idleness. Sapt, his meal finished, puffed away at 
his great pipe ; James, after much pressure, had 

consented to light a small black clay, and sat at 

256 


A PASTIME FOR COLONEL SAPT 


his ease with his legs stretched before him. His 
brows were knit, and a curious half-smile played 
about his mouth. 

“What may you be thinking about, friend 
James?” asked the Constable between two puffs. 
He had taken a fancy to the alert, ready little 
fellow. 

James smoked for a moment, then took his 
pipe from his mouth. 

‘ ‘ I was thinking, sir, that since the King is 
dead ” He paused. 

“The King is no doubt dead, poor fellow, ?r 
said Sapt, nodding. 

‘ ‘ That since he’s certainly dead, and since my 
master, Mr. Rassendyll, is alive ” 

“ So far as we know, James,” Sapt reminded 
him. 

‘ ‘ Why, yes, sir, so far as we know. Since 
then Mr. Rassendyll is alive and the King is 
dead, I was thinking that it was a great pity, 
sir, that my master can’t take his place and be 
King.” 

James looked across at the Constable with an 
air of a man who offers a respectful suggestion. 

“A remarkable thought, James,” observed 
the Constable with a grin. 

“You don’t agree with me, sir ? ” asked James 
deprecatingly. 

‘ 4 1 don’t say that it isn’t a pity, for Rudolf 

257 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


makes a good King. But you see it’s impossi- 
ble, isn’t it? ” 

James nursed his knee between his hands, and 
his pipe, which he had replaced, stuck out of one 
corner of his mouth. 

“ When you say impossible, sir,” he remarked 
deferentially, “ I venture to differ from you.” 

“ You do ? Come, we’re at leisure. Let’s 
hear how it would be possible.” 

“ My master is in Strelsau, sir,” began James. 

“Well, most likely.” 

“ I’m sure of it, sir. If he’s seen there, he will 
be taken for the King.” 

“ That has happened before, and no doubt 
may happen again, unless ” 

“ Why, of course, sir, unless the King’s body 
should be discovered.” 

“ That’s what I was about to say, James.” 

James kept silence for a few minutes. Then 
he observed : 

“ It will be very awkward to explain how the 
King was killed.” 

“ The story will need good telling,” admitted 
Sapt. 

“And it will be difficult to make it appear that 
the King was killed in Strelsau ; yet if my mas- 
ter should chance to be killed in Strelsau ” 

“Heaven forbid, James! On all grounds, 
Heaven forbid ! ” 


258 


A PASTIME FOR COLONEL SAPT 


“ Even if my master is not killed, it will be 
difficult for us to get the King killed at the right 
time, and by means that will seem plausible.” 

Sapt seemed to fall into the humour of the 
speculation. 

“ That’s all very true. But if Mr. Rassendyll 
is to be King, it will be both awkward and diffi- 
cult to dispose of the King’s body and of this 
poor fellow Herbert,” said he, sucking at his 
pipe. 

Again James paused for a little while before 
he remarked : 

“ I am, of course, sir, only discussing the mat- 
ter by way of passing the time. It would prob- 
ably be wrong to carry any such plan into 
effect.” 

“ It might be, but let us discuss it — to pass 
the time,” said Sapt ; and he leant forward, look- 
ing into the servant’s quiet, shrewd face. 

“ Well, then, sir, since it amuses you, let us 
say that the King came to the lodge last night, 
and w r as joined there by his friend Mr. Rassen- 
dyll.” 

“ And did I come too ? ” 

“You, sir, came also, in attendance on the 
King. 

“Well, and you, James? You came. How 
came you ? ” 

Why, sir, by the Count of Tarlenheim’s 

259 


44 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


orders, to wait on Mr. Rassendyll, the King’s 
friend. Now the King, sir . . . This is my 

story, you know, sir, only my story.” 

“ Your story interests me. Go on with it.” 

“ The King went out very early this morning, 
sir. 

“ That would be on private business ? ” 

“ So we should have understood. But Mr. Ras- 
sendyll, Herbert, and ourselves remained here.” 

“ Had the Count of Hentzau been ? ” 

“ Not to our knowledge, sir. But we were all 
tired and slept very soundly.” 

“Now did we?” said the Constable with a. 
grim smile. 

“ In fact, sir, we were all overcome with 
fatigue — Mr. Rassendyll like the rest — and full 
morning found us still in our beds. There we 
should be to this moment, sir, had we not been 
suddenly aroused in a startling and fearful man- 
ner.” 

“ You should write story-books, James. Now 
what was this fearful manner in which we were 
aroused ? ” 

James laid down his pipe, and, resting his 
hands on his knees, continued his story. 

“ This lodge, sir, this wooden lodge — for the 
lodge is all of wood, sir, without and within.” 

“ This lodge is undoubtedly of wood, James, 

and, as you say, both inside and out.” 

260 


A PASTIME FOR COLONEL SAPT 


“ And since it is, sir, it would be mighty care- 
less to leave a candle burning where the oil and 
firewood are stored.” 

“ Most criminal ! ” 

“But hard words don’t hurt dead men ; and 
you see, sir, poor Herbert is dead.” 

“ It is true. He wouldn’t feel aggrieved.” 

“ But we, sir, you and I, awaking ” 

“ Aren’t the others to awake, James ? ” 

“ Indeed, sir, I should pray that they had 
never awaked. For you and I, waking first, 
would find the lodge a mass of flames. We 
should have to run for our lives.” 

“ What ? Should we make no effort to rouse 
the others ? ” 

“ Indeed, sir, we should do all that men could 
do ; we should even risk death by suffocation.” 

“ But we should fail, in spite of our heroism, 
should we ? ” 

“ Alas, sir, in spite of all our efforts we should 
fail. The flames would envelop the lodge in one 
blaze ; before help could come, the lodge would 
be in ruins, and my unhappy master and poor 
Herbert would be consumed to ashes.” 

“ Hum ! ” 

“ They would, at least, sir, be entirely unrecog- 
nisable.” 

“ You think so ? ” 

“ Bevond doubt, if the oil and the firewood 

261 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

and the candle were placed to the best advan- 
tage.” 

“Ah, yes. And there would be an end of 
Rudolf Rassendyll ? ” 

“ Sir, I should myself carry the tidings to his 
family.” 

“ Whereas the King of Ruritania ” 

“Would enjoy a long and prosperous reign, 
God willing, sir.” 

“ And the Queen of Ruritania, James ? ” 

4 4 Do not misunderstand me, sir. They could 
be secretly married — I should say re-married.” 

“Yes, certainly, re-married.” 

“ By a trustworthy priest.” 

“You mean an untrustworthy priest ? ” 

4 4 It’s the same thing, sir, from a different point 
of view.” 

For the first time James smiled a thoughtful 
smile. 

Sapt in his turn laid down his pipe now, and 
was tugging at his moustache. There was a 
smile on his lips too, and his eyes looked hard 
into James’s. The little man met his glance 
composedly. 

4 4 It’s an ingenious fancy, this of yours, 
James,” the Constable remarked. 44 What, 
though, if your master’s killed too? That’s 
quite possible. Count Rupert’s a man to be 
reckoned with.” 


262 


A PASTIME FOR COLONEL SAPT 


“If my master is killed, sir, he must be 
buried,” answered James. 

44 In Strelsau ? ” came in quick question from 
Sapt. 

“He won’t mind where, sir.” 

“True, he won’t mind, and we needn’t mind 
for him.” 

“Why, no, sir. But to carry a body secretly 
from here to Strelsau ” 

“Yes, that is, as we agreed at the first, diffi- 
cult. Well, it’s a pretty story, but — your mas- 
ter wouldn’t approve of it. Supposing he were 
not killed, I mean.” 

4 4 It’s waste of time, sir, disapproving of what’s 
done : he might think the story better than the 
truth, although it’s not a good story.” 

The two men’s eyes met again in a long glance. 

4 4 Where do you come from ? ” asked Sapt sud- 
denly. 

44 London, sir, originally.” 

4 4 They make good stories there ? ” 

44 Yes, sir, and act them sometimes.” 

The instant he had spoken, James sprang to 
his feet and pointed out of the window. 

A man on horseback was cantering towards 
the lodge. Exchanging one quick look, both 
hastened to the door, and, advancing some twen- 
ty yards, waited under the tree on the spot where 
Boris lay buried. 


263 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“By the way,” said Sapt, “you forgot the 
dog,” and he pointed to the ground. 

4 4 The affectionate beast will be in his master’s 
room, and die there, sir.” 

4 4 Eh, but he must rise again first ! ” 

44 Certainly, sir. That won’t be a long matter.” 

Sapt was still smiling in grim amusement when 
the messenger came up and, leaning from his 
horse, handed him a telegram. 

44 Special and urgent, sir,” said he. 

Sapt tare it open and read. It was the mes- 
sage that I sent in obedience to Mr. Rassendyll’s 
orders. He would not trust my cipher, but, in- 
deed, none was necessary. Sapt would under- 
stand the message, although it said simply : 4 4 The 
King is in Strelsau. Wait orders at the lodge. 
Business here in progress, but not finished. Will 
wire again.” 

Sapt handed it to James, who took it with a 
respectful little bow. James read it with atten- 
tion, and returned it with another bow. 

44 I’ll attend to what it says, sir,” he remarked. 

“Yes,” said Sapt. “Thanks, my man,” he 
added to the messenger. 44 Here’s a crown for 
you. If any other message comes for me and 
you bring it in good time, you shall have an- 
other.” 

4 4 You shall have it as quick as a horse can 
bring it from the station, sir.” 

264 


A PASTIME FOR COLONEL SAPT 


“The King’s business won’t bear delay, you 
know,” nodded Sapt. 

“You sha’n’t have to wait, sir,” and, with a 
parting salute, the fellow turned his horse and 
trotted away. 

44 You see,” remarked Sapt, 44 that your story is 
quite imaginary. For that fellow can see for him- 
self that the lodge was not burnt down last night.” 

4 4 That’s true ; but excuse me, sir ” 

“Pray go on, James. I’ve told you that I’m 
interested.” 

4 4 He can’t see that it won’t be burnt down to- 
night. A fire, sir, is a thing that may happen 
any night.” 

Then old Sapt suddenly burst into a roar, half- 
speech, half-laughter. 

4 4 By God, what a thing ! ” he roared ; and 
James smiled complacently. 

4 4 There’s a fate about it,” said the Constable. 
44 There’s a strange fate about it. The man was 
born to it. W e’d have done it before if Michael 
had throttled the King in that cellar, as I thought 
he would. Yes, by heavens, we’d have done it! 
Why, we wanted it ! God forgive us, in our 
hearts both Fritz and I wanted it. But Rudolf 
would have the King out. He would have him 
out, though he lost a throne — and what he wanted 
more — by it. But he would have him out. So 

he thwarted the fate. But it’s not to be thwarted. 

265 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


Young Rupert may think this new affair is his 
doing. No, it’s the fate using him. The fate 
brought Rudolf here again, the fate will have him 
King. AY ell, you stare at me. Do you think 
I’m mad, Mr. A^alet?” 

“ I think, sir, that you talk very good sense, 
if I may say so,” answered James. 

“ Sense ? ’ ’ echoed Sapt, with a chuckle. “ I 
don’t know about that. But the fate’s there, 
depend on it! ” 

The two were back in their little room now, 
past the door that hid the bodies of the King and 
his huntsman. James stood by the table, old 
Sapt roamed up and down, tugging his moustache 
and now and again sawing the air with his sturdy, 
hairy hand. 

“I daren’t doit,” he muttered: “ I daren’t 
do it. It’s a thing a man can’t set his hand to 
of his own will. But the fate’ll do it — the fate’ll 
do it. The fate’ll force it on us. ’ ’ 

“Then we’d best be ready, sir,” suggested 
James quietly. 

Sapt turned on him quickly, almost fiercely. 

“ They used to call me a cool hand,” said he. 
“ By Jove, what are you? ” 

“There’s no harm in being ready, sir,” said 
James the servant. 

Sapt came to him and caught hold of his 
shoulders. 


266 


A PASTIME FOR COLONEL SAPT 

“Ready? ” he asked in a gruff whisper. 

“ The oil, the firewood, the light,” said James. 

“ Where, man, where ? Do you mean by the 
bodies? 

“ Not where the bodies are now. Each must 
be in the proper place. ’ 5 

“ We must move them, then? ” 

“ Why, yes. And the dog too.” 

Sapt almost glared at him ; then he burst into 
a laugh. 

“So be it,” he said. “You take command. 
Yes, we’ll be ready. The fate drives.” 

Then and there they set about what they had 
to do. It seemed indeed as though some strange 
influence were dominating Sapt; he went about 
the work like a man who is hardly awake. They 
placed the bodies each where the living man 
would be by night — the King in the guest-room, 
the huntsman in the sort of cupboard where the 
honest fellow had been wont to lie. They dug 
up the buried dog, Sapt chuckling convulsively, 
James grave as the mute whose grim doings he 
seemed to travesty : they carried the shot-pierced 
earth-grimed thing in, and laid it in the King’s 
room. Then they made their piles of wood, 
pouring the store of oil over them, and setting 
bottles of spirits near, that the flames, having 
cracked the bottles, might gain fresh fuel. To 

Sapt it seemed now as if they played some fool- 

267 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


ish game that was to end with the playing, now 
as if they obeyed some mysterious power which 
kept its great purpose hidden from the instru- 
ments. Mr. Rassendyll’s servant moved and ar- 
ranged and ordered all as deftly as he folded his 
master’s clothes or stropped his master’s razor. 
Old Sapt stopped him once as he went by. 

“ Don’t think me a mad fool, because I talk 
of the fate,” he said, almost anxiously. 

“ Not I, sir,” answered James; “ I know noth- 
ing of that. But I like to be ready.” 

“ It would be a thing ! ” muttered Sapt. 

The mockery, real or assumed, in which they 
had begun their work had vanished now. If 
they were not serious, they played at seriousness. 
If they entertained no intention such as their 
acts seemed to indicate, they could no longer 
deny that they cherished a hope. They shrank, 
or at least Sapt shrank, from setting such a ball 
rolling ; but they longed for the fate that would 
give it a kick, and they made smooth the incline 
down which it, when thus impelled, was to run. 
When they had finished their task and sat down 
again opposite to one another in the little front 
room, the whole scheme was ready, the prepara- 
tions were made, all was in train; they waited 
only for that impulse from chance or fate which 
was to turn the servant’s story into reality and 

action. And when the thing was done, S apt’s 

268 


A PASTIME FOR COLONEL SAPT 


coolness, so rarely upset, yet so completely beaten 
by the force of that wild idea, came back to him. 
He lit his pipe again and lay back in his chair, 
puffing freely, with a meditative look on his face. 

“ It’s two o’clock, sir,” said James. “ Some- 
thing should have happened before now in Strel- 
sau.” 

“Ah, but what?” asked the Constable. 

Suddenly breaking on their ears came a loud 
knock at the door. Absorbed in their own 
thoughts, they had not noticed two men riding 
up to the lodge. The visitors wore the green 
and gold of the King’s huntsmen ; the one who 
had knocked was Simon, the chief huntsman, and 
brother of Herbert who lay dead in the little 
room inside. 

“ Rather dangerous! ” muttered the Constable 
of Zenda as he hurried to the door, James fol- 
lowing him. 

Simon was astonished when Sapt opened the 
door. 

‘ ‘ Beg pardon, Constable, but I want to see 
Herbert. Can I go in? ” And he jumped down 
from his horse, throwing the reins to his com- 
panion. 

“ What’s the good of your going in? ” asked 
Sapt. “ Herbert’s not here. 

“ Not here? Then where is he? ” 

“ Why, he went with the King this morning.” 

18 269 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ Oh, he went with the King, sir? Then he’s 
in Strelsau, I suppose ? ” 

“ If you know that, Simon, you’re wiser than 

1 59 

am. 

“ But the King is in Strelsau, sir.” 

“ The deuce he is ! He said nothing of going 
to Strelsau. He rose early and rode off with 
Herbert, merely saying they would be back to- 
night.” 

“ He went to Strelsau, sir. I am just from 
Zenda, and His Majesty is known to have been 
in town with the Queen. They were both at 
Count Fritz’s.” 

“ I’m much interested to hear it. But didn’t 
the telegram say where Herbert was ? ” 

Simon laughed. 

“ Herbert’s not a king, you see,” he said. 
“ Well, I’ll come again to-morrow morning, for I 
must see him soon. He’ll be back by then, sir ? ” 
“Yes, Simon, your brother will be here to- 
morrow morning.” 

“ Or what’s left of him after such a two days 
of work,” suggested Simon jocularly. 

“Why, yes, precisely,” said Sapt, biting his 
moustache and darting one swift glance at James. 
“ Or what’s left of him, as you say. ’ ’ 

“ And I’ll bring a cart and carry the boar down 
to the Castle at the same time, sir. At least I 

suppose you haven’t eaten it all ? ’ ’ 

270 


A PASTIME FOR COLONEL SAPT 


Sapt laughed ; Simon was gratified at the trib- 
ute, and laughed even more heartily himself. 

“We haven’t even cooked it yet,” said Sapt, 
“ but I won’t answer for it that we sha’n’t have 
by to-morrow.” 

“All right, sir; I’ll be here. By the way, 
there’s another bit of news come on the wires. 
They say Count Rupert of Hentzau has been 
seen in the city. 

“ Rupert of Hentzau ? Oh, pooh ! Nonsense, 
my good Simon. He daren’t show his face there 
for his life. 

“Ah, but it may be no nonsense. Perhaps 
that’s what took the King to Strelsau.” 

“ It’s enough to take him if it’s true,” admit- 
ted Sapt. 

“Well, good-day, sir.” 

“Good-day, Simon.” 

The two huntsmen rode off. James watched 
them for a little while. 

“ The King,” he said then, “is known to be in 
Strelsau ; and now Count Rupert is known to 
be in Strelsau. How is Count Rupert to have 
killed the King here in the forest of Zenda, 
sir ? 

Sapt looked at him almost apprehensively. 

“ How is the King’s body to come to the forest 

of Zenda?” asked James. “Or how is the 

King’s body to go to the city of Strelsau? ” 

271 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ Stop your damned riddles ! ’ ’ roared Sapt. 
<e Man, are you bent on driving me into it ? ” 

The servant came near to him, and laid a hand 
on his shoulder. 

“ You went into as great a thing once before, 
sir,” said he. 

“ It was to save the King. 

“ And this is to save the Queen and yourself. 
For if we don’t do it, the truth about my master 
must be known.” 

Sapt made him no answer. They sat down 
again in silence. There they sat, sometimes 
smoking, never speaking, while the tedious after- 
noon wore away and the shadows from the trees 
of the forest lengthened. They did not think of 
eating or drinking; they did not move, save 
when James rose and lit a little fire of brush- 
wood in the grate. It grew dusk, and again 
James moved to light the lamp. It was hard on 
six o’clock, and still no news came from Strelsau. 

Then there was the sound of a horse’s hoofs. 
The two rushed to the door, beyond it, and far 
along the grassy road that gave approach to the 
hunting-lodge. They forgot to guard the secret, 
and the door gaped open behind them. Sapt ran 
as he had not run for many a day, and out- 
stripped his companion. There was a message 
from Strelsau ! 

The Constable, without a word of greeting, 

272 


A PASTIME FOR COLONEL SAPT 


snatched the envelope from the hand of the mes- 
senger and tore it open. He read it hastily, 
muttering under his breath “ Good God ! ” Then 
he turned suddenly round and began to walk 
quickly back to James, who, seeing himself 
beaten in the race, had dropped to a walk. But 
the messenger had his cares as well as the Con- 
stable. If the Constable’s thoughts were on a 
crown, so were his. He called out in indignant 
protest : 

“ I’ve never drawn rein since Hofbau, sir. Am 
I not to have my crown ? ” 

Sapt stopped, turned, and retraced his steps. 
He took a crown from his pocket. As he looked 
up in giving it, there was a queer smile on his 
broad weather-beaten face. 

“ Aye,” he said, “ every man that deserves a 
crown shall have one, if I can give it him.” 

Then he turned again to James, who had now 
come up, and laid his hand on his shoulder. 

“ Come along, my king-maker,” said he. 

James looked in his face for a moment. The 
Constable’s eyes met his, and the Constable 
nodded. 

So they turned to the lodge where the dead 
king and his huntsman lay. Verily the fate 
drove. 


273 


CHAPTER XVI 


A CROWD IN THE KONIGSTRASSE 

The project that had taken shape in the thoughts 
of Mr. Rassendyll’s servant, and had inflamed 
Sapts daring mind as the dropping of a spark 
kindles dry shavings, had suggested itself vaguely 
to more than one of us in Strelsau. We did not 
indeed coolly face and plan it, as the little ser- 
vant had, nor seize on it at once with an eagerness 
to be convinced of its necessity, like the Consta- 
ble of Zenda ; but it was there in my mind, 
sometimes figuring as a dread, sometimes as a 
hope, now seeming the one thing to be avoided, 
again the only resource against a more disastrous 
issue. I knew that it was in Bernenstein’s 
thoughts no less than in my own ; for neither of us 
had been able to form any reasonable scheme by 
which the living king, whom half Strelsau now 
knew to be in the city, could be spirited away, 
and the dead king set in his place. The change 
could take place, as it seemed, only in one way 
and at one cost ; the truth, or the better part of 
it, must be told, and every tongue set wagging 
with gossip and guesses concerning Rudolf Ras- 

sendyll and his relations with the Queen. Who 

274 


% 


A CROWD IN THE KONIGSTRASSE 


that knows what men and women are would not 
have shrunk from that alternative ? To adopt it 
was to expose the Queen to all, or nearly all, the 
peril she had run by the loss of the letter. We 
indeed assumed, influenced by Rudolf’s unhesi- 
tating self-confidence, that the letter would be 
won back, and the mouth of Rupert of Hentzau 
shut ; but enough would remain to furnish ma- 
terial for eager talk and conjectures unrestrained 
by respect or charity. Therefore, alive as we 
were to its difficulties and its unending risks, we 
yet conceived of the thing as possible, had it in 
our hearts, and hinted it to one another— my 
wife to me, I to Eernenstein, and he to me — in 
quick glances and half- uttered sentences that de- 
clared its presence while shunning the open con- 
fession of it. For the Queen herself I cannot 
speak. Her thoughts, as I judged them, were 
bounded by the longing to see Mr. Rassendyll 
again, and dwelt on the visit that he promised as 
the horizon of hope. To Rudolf we had dared 
to disclose nothing of the part our imaginations 
set him to play : if he were to accept it, the 
acceptance would be of his own act, because the 
fate that old Sapt talked of drove him, and on 
no persuasion of ours. As he had said, he left 
the rest, and had centred all his efforts on the 
immediate task which fell to his hand to perform, 

the task that was to be accomplished at the dingy 

275 


♦ 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


old house in the Konigstrasse. We were fully 
awake to the fact that even Rupert’s death would 
not make the secret safe. Rischenheim, although 
for a moment a prisoner and helpless, was alive 
and could not be mewed up for ever ; Bauer was 
we knew not where, free to act and free to talk. 
Yet in our hearts we feared none but Rupert, 
and the doubt was not whether we could do the 
thing so much as whether we should. For in 
moments of excitement and intense feeling a 
man makes light of obstacles which look large 
enough as he turns reflective eyes on them in the 
quiet of after days. 

A message in the King’s name had persuaded 
the best part of the idle crowd to disperse reluc- 
tantly. Rudolf himself had entered one of my 
carriages and driven off. He started, not tow- 
ards the Konigstrasse, but in the opposite direc- 
tion : I supposed that he meant to approach his 
destination by a circuitous way, hoping to gain it 
without attracting notice. The Queen’s carriage 
was still before my door, for it had been arranged 
that she was to proceed to the palace and await 
tidings there. My wife and I were to accom- 
pany her ; and I went to her now, where she 
sat alone, and asked if it were her pleasure 
to start at once. I found her thoughtful but 
calm. She listened to me ; then, rising, she 

said, “ Yes, I will go.” But then she asked 

276 


A CROWD IN THE KONIGSTRASSE 

suddenly, “ Where is the Count of Luzau- 
Rischenheim ? ” 

I told her how Bernenstein kept guard over 
the Count in the room at the back of the house. 
She seemed to consider for a moment, then she 
said, “ I will see him. Go and bring him to me. 
You must be here while I talk to him, but no- 
body else.” 

I did not know what she intended, but I saw 
no reason to oppose her wishes, and I was glad 
to find for her any means of employing this time 
of suspense. I obeyed her commands and brought 
Rischenheim to her. He followed me slowly and 
reluctantly ; his unstable mind had again jumped 
from rashness to despondency : he was pale and 
uneasy, and, when he found himself in her pres- 
ence, the bravado of his bearing, maintained 
before Bernenstein, gave place to a shamefaced 
sullenness. He could not meet the grave eyes 
that she fixed on him. 

I withdrew to the farther end of the room ; 
but it was small, and I heard all that passed. I 
had my revolver ready to cover Rischenheim in 
case he should be moved to make a dash for 
liberty. But he was past that ; Rupert’s pres- 
ence was a tonic that nerved him to effort and 
confidence, but the force of the last dose was 
gone and the man had sunk again to his natural 
irresolution. 


277 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ My lord,” she began gently, motioning him 
to sit, “ I have desired to speak to you, because 
I do not wish a gentleman of your rank to think 
too much evil of his Queen. Heaven has willed 
that my secret should be to you no secret, and 
therefore I may speak plainly. You may say my 
own shame should silence me ; I speak to lessen 
my shame in your eyes, if I can.” 

Rischenheim looked up with a dull gaze, not 
understanding her mood. He had expected re- 
proaches, and met low-voiced apology. 

“ And yet,” she went on, “ it is because of me 
that the King lies dead now ; and a faithful 
humble fellow also, caught in the net of my un- 
happy fortunes, has given his life for me though 
he didn’t know it. Even while we speak, it may 
be that a gentleman, not too old yet to learn 
nobility, may be killed in my quarrel; while 
another, whom I alone of all that know him may 
not praise, carries his life lightly in his hand for 
me. And to you, my lord, I have done the 
wrong of dressing a harsh deed in some cloak of 
excuse, making you seem to serve the King in 
working my punishment.” 

Rischenheim’s eyes fell to the ground, and he 
twisted his hands nervously in and out, the one 
about the other. I took my hand from my re- 
volver: he would not move now. 

I don’t know,” she went on, now almost 

278 


a 


A CROWD IN THE KONIGSTRASSE 

dreamily, and as though she spoke more to her- 
self than to him, or had even forgotten his pres- 
ence, 44 what end in Heaven’s counsel my great un- 
happiness has served. Perhaps I, who have place 
above most women, must also be tried above 
most; and in that trial I have failed. Yet, when 
I weigh my misery and my temptation, to my 
human eyes it seems that I have not failed 
greatly. My heart is not yet humbled, God’s 
work not yet done. But the guilt of blood is 
on my soul — even the face of my dear love I 
can see now only through its scarlet mist; so 
that if what seemed my perfect joy were now 
granted me, it would come spoilt and stained 
and blotched.” 

She paused, fixing her eyes on him again ; but 
he neither spoke nor moved. 

44 You knew my sin,” she said, 44 the sin so great 
in my heart; and you knew how little my acts 
yielded to it. Did you think, my lord, that the 
sin had no punishment, that you took it in hand 
to add shame to my suffering? Was Heaven 
so kind that men must temper its indulgence by 
their severity? Yet I know that because I was 
wrong, you, being wrong, might seem to your- 
self not wrong, and in aiding your kinsman might 
plead that you served the King’s honour. Thus, 
my lord, I was the cause in you of a deed that 

your heart could not welcome nor your honour 

279 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


praise. I thank God that you have come to no 
more hurt by it.” 

Rischenheim began to mutter in a low thick 
voice, his eyes still cast down : 

“ Rupert persuaded me. He said the King 

would be very grateful, and — would give me ” 

His voice died away, and he sat silent again, 
twisting his hands. 

“ I know — I know,” she said. “ But you 
wouldn’t have listened to such persuasions if my 
fault hadn’t blinded your eyes.” 

She turned suddenly to me, who had been 
standing all the time aloof, and stretched out 
her hands towards me, her eyes filled with 
tears. 

“Yet,” said she, “your wife knows, and still 
loves me, Fritz.” 

“ She would be no wife of mine if she didn’t,” 
I cried. “For I and all of mine ask no better 
than to die for Your Majesty.” 

“ She knows, and yet she loves me,” repeated 
the Queen. I loved to see that she seemed to 
find comfort in Helga’s love. It is women to 
whom women turn, and women whom women 
fear. “ But Helga writes no letters,” said the 
Queen. 

“ Why, no,” said I, and I smiled a grim smile. 
Well, Rudolf Rassendyll had never wooed my 
wife. 


280 


A CROWD IN THE KONIGSTRASSE 

She rose, saying: 

“ Come, let us go to the palace.” 

As she rose, Rischenheim made a quick im- 
pulsive step towards her. 

“Well, my lord,” said she, turning towards 
him, “ will you too go with me? ” 

“ Lieutenant von Bern enstein will take care ” 

I began. But I stopped. The slightest gesture 
of her hand silenced me. 

“ Will you go with me?” she asked Rischen- 
heim again. 

“ Madame,” he stammered, “ Madame ” 

She waited. I waited also, although I had 
no great patience with him. Suddenly he fell on 
his knee, but he did not venture to take her hand. 
Of her own accord she came and stretched it out 
to him, saying sadly : 

“Ah, that by forgiving I could win forgiveness !” 

Rischenheim caught at her hand and kissed it. 

“It was not I,” I heard him mutter. “Ru- 
pert set me on, and I couldn’t stand out against 
him.” 

“Will you go with me to the palace ? ” she 
asked, drawing her hand away, but smiling. 

“ The Count of Luzau-Rischenheim,” I made 
bold to observe, “ knows some things that most 
people do not know, madame.” 

She turned on me with dignity, almost with 
displeasure. 


281 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“The Count of Luzau-Rischenheim may be 
trusted to be silent,” she said. “ We ask him to 
do nothing against his cousin. We ask only his 
silence.” 

“ Aye,” said I, braving her anger, “ but what 
security shall we have ? ” 

“ His word of honour, my lord.” I knew that 
a rebuke to my presumption lay in her calling me 
“ my lord,” for, save on formal occasions, she 
always used to call me Fritz. 

“ His word of honour ! ” I grumbled. “ In 
truth, madame ” 

“ He’s right,” said Rischenheim : “ he’s right.” 

“ No, he’s wrong,” said the Queen, smiling. 
“ The Count will keep his word, given to me.” 

Rischenheim looked at her and seemed about 
to address her, but then he turned to me and said 
in a low tone : 

“ By heaven, I will, Tarlenheim. I’ll serve 
her in everything.” 

“ My lord,” said she most graciously, and yet 
most sadly, “ you lighten the burden on me no 
less by your help than because I no longer feel 
your honour stained through me. Come, we will 
go to the palace.” And she went to him, saying, 
“ We will go together.” 

There was nothing for it but to trust him. I 
knew that I could not turn her. 

Then I’ll see if the carriage is ready,” said I. 

282 


a 


A CROWD IN THE KONIGSTRASSE 

“ Yes, do, Fritz,” said the Queen. But as I 
passed she stopped me for a moment, saying in a 
whisper, 44 Show that you trust him.” 

I went and held out my hand to him. He 
took and pressed it. 

66 On my honour,” he said. 

Then I went out, and found Bernenstein sit- 
ting on a bench in the hall. The Lieutenant was 
a diligent and watchful young man ; he appeared 
to be examining his revolver with sedulous care. 

“ You can put that away,” said I rather pee- 
vishly — I had not fancied shaking hands with 
Rischenheim. 4 4 He’s not a prisoner any longer. 
He’s one of us now. 59 

“ The deuce he is ! ” cried Bernenstein, spring- 
ing to his feet. 

I told him briefly what had happened, and how 
the Queen had won Rupert’s instrument to be 
her servant. 

44 1 suppose he’ll stick to it,” I ended ; and I 
thought he would, though I was not eager for his 
help. 

A light gleamed in Bernenstein’s eyes, and I felt 
a tremble in the hand that he laid on my shoulder. 

44 Then there’s only Bauer now,” he whispered. 
44 If Rischenheim’s with us, only Bauer ! ” 

I knew very well what he meant. With 
Rischenheim silent, Bauer was the only man, save 

Rupert himself, who knew the truth, the only 

283 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


man who threatened that great scheme which 
more and more filled our thoughts and grew upon 
us with an increasing force of attraction as every 
obstacle to it seemed to be cleared out of the way. 
But I would not look at Bernenstein, fearing to 
acknowledge even with my eyes how my mind 
jumped with his. He was bolder, or less scrupu- 
lous — which you will. 

“ Yes, if we can shut Bauer’s mouth ” he 

went on. 

“ The Queen’s waiting for the carriage,” I in- 
terrupted snappishly. 

“Ah, yes, of course, the carriage,” and he 
twisted me round till I was forced to look him in 
the face. Then he smiled and even laughed a 
little. “ Only Bauer now ! ” said he. 

“And Rupert,” I remarked sourly. 

“ Oh, Rupert’s dead bones by now,” he chuck- 
led, and with that he w r ent out of the hall door 
and announced the Queen’s approach to her ser- 
vants. It must be said for young Bernenstein 
that he was a cheerful fellow-conspirator. His 
equanimity almost matched Rudolf’s own ; I 
could not rival it myself. 

I drove to the palace with the Queen and my 
wife, the other two following in a second carriage. 
I do not know what they said to one another on 
the way, but Bernenstein was civil enough to his 

companion when I rejoined them. With us my 

284 


A CROWD IN THE KONIGSTRASSE 

wife was the principal speaker : she filled up, 
from what Rudolf had told her, the gaps in our 
knowledge of how he had spent his night in Strel- 
sau, and by the time we arrived we were fully 
informed in every detail. The Queen said little. 
The impulse which had dictated her appeal to 
Rischenheim and carried her through it seemed 
to have died away ; she had become again sub- 
ject to fears and apprehension. I saw her uneasi- 
ness when she suddenly put out her hand and 
touched mine, whispering : 

“ He must be at the house by now.” 

Our way did not lie by the house, and we came 
to the palace without any news of our absent chief 
(so I call him — as such we all, from the Queen 
herself, then regarded him). She did not speak 
of him again ; but her eyes seemed to follow me 
about as though she were silently asking some 
service of me ; what it was I could not under- 
stand. Bernenstein had disappeared, and the re- 
pentant Count with him : knowing they were to- 
gether, I was in no uneasiness ; Bernenstein would 
see that his companion contrived no treachery. 
But I was puzzled by the Queen’s tacit appeal. 
And I was myself on fire for news from the 
Konigstrasse. It was now two hours since Ru- 
dolf Rassendyll had left us, and no word had come 
of him or from him. At last I could bear it no 

longer. The Queen was sitting with her hand in 

19 285 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


my wife’s ; I had been seated on the other side of 
the room, for I thought that they might wish to 
talk to one another ; yet I had not seen them ex- 
change a word. I rose abruptly and crossed the 
room to where they were. 

“ Have you need of my presence, madame, or 
have I your permission to be away for a time ? ” 
I asked. 

“Where do you wish to go, Fritz?” the 
Queen asked with a little start, as though I had 
come suddenly across her thoughts. 

“To the Konigstrasse,” said I. 

To my surprise she rose and caught my hand. 

“ God bless you, Fritz ! ” she cried. “ I don’t 
think I could have endured it longer. But I 
wouldn’t ask you to go. But go, my dear 
friend, go and bring me news of him. Oh, 
Fritz, I seem to dream that dream again ! ” 

My wife looked up at me with a brave smile 
and a trembling lip. 

“ Shall you go into the house, Fritz ? ” she 
asked. 

“Not unless I see need, sweetheart,” said I. 

She came and kissed me. 

“ Go if you are wanted*” she said. And she 
tried to smile at the Queen, as though she risked 
me willingly. 

“ I could have been such a wife, Fritz,” whis- 
pered the Queen. “ Yes, I could.” 

286 


A CROWD IN THE KONIGSTRASSE 

I had nothing to say ; at the moment I might 
not have been able to say it if I had. There is 
something in the helpless courage of women that 
makes me feel soft. We can work and fight ; 
they sit and wait. Yet they do not flinch. 
Now I know that if I had to sit and think about 
the thing I should turn cur. 

Well, I went, leaving them there together. I 
put on plain clothes instead of my uniform, and 
dropped my revolver into the pocket of my coat. 
Thus prepared, I slipped out and made my way 
on foot to the Konigstrasse. 

It was now long past midday. Many folk 
were still at their dinner and the streets were 
not full. Two or three people recognised me, 
but I passed by most unnoticed. There was 
no sign of stir or excitement, and the flags still 
floated high in the wind. Sapt had kept the 
secret : the men of Strelsau thought still that 
their King lived and was among them. I feared 
that Rudolf’s coming would have been seen, 
and expected to find a crowd of people near the 
house. But when I reached it there were no 
more than ten or a dozen idle fellows lounging 
about. I began to stroll up and down with as 
careless an air as I could assume. 

Soon, however, there was a change. The 
workmen and business-folk, their meal finished, 

began to come out of their houses and from the 

287 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


restaurants. The loafers before No. 19 spoke to 
many of them. Some said “ Indeed ! ” shook 
their heads, smiled, and passed on : they had no 
time to waste in staring at the King. But 
many waited ; lighting their cigars or cigarettes 
or pipes, they stood gossiping with one another, 
looking at their watches now and again, lest they 
should overstay their leisure. Thus the assem- 
bly grew to the number of a couple of hundred. 
I ceased my walk, for the pavement was too 
crowded, and hung on the outskirts of the 
throng. As I loitered there, a cigar in my 
mouth, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Turning 
round, I saw the Lieutenant. He was in uni- 
form. By his side was Rischenheim. 

“ You’re here too, are you ? ” said I. “ Well, 
nothing seems to be happening, does it ? ” 

For No. 19 showed no sign of life. The shut- 
ters were up, .the door closed ; the little shop 
was not open for business that day. 

Bernenstein shook his head with a smile. 
His companion took no heed of my remark ; he 
was evidently in a state of great agitation, and 
his eyes never left the door of the house. I was 
about to address him, when my attention was 
abruptly and completely diverted by a glimpse 
of a head, caught across the shoulders of the 
bystanders. 

The fellow whom I saw wore a brown wide- 

288 


A CROWD IN THE KONIGSTRASSE 


awake hat. The hat was pulled low down over 
his forehead, but nevertheless beneath its rim 
there appeared a white bandage running round 
his head. I could not see the face, but the bul- 
let-shaped skull was very familiar to me. I was 
sure from the first moment that the bandaged 
man was Bauer. Saying nothing to Bernen- 
stein, I began to steal round outside the crowd. 
As I went, I heard somebody saying that it was 
all nonsense ; the King was not there : what 
should the King do in such a house ? The an- 
swer was a reference to one of the first loungers ; 
he replied that he did not know what the devil 
the King did there, but that the King or his 
double had certainly gone in, and had as cer- 
tainly not yet come out again. I wished I could 
have made myself known to them and persuaded 
them to go away ; but my presence would have 
outweighed my declarations, and been taken as 
a sure sign that the King was in the house. So 
I kept on the outskirts and worked my way 
unobtrusively towards the bandaged head. Evi- 
dently Bauer’s hurt had not been so serious as to 
prevent him leaving the infirmary to which the 
police had carried him. He was come now to 
await, even as I was awaiting, the issue of 
Rudolf’s visit to the house in the Konigstrasse. 

He had not seen me, for he was looking at 

No. 19 as intently as Rischenheim. Apparently 

289 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


neither had caught sight of the other, or Risch- 
enheim would have shown some embarrassment, 
Bauer some excitement. I wormed my way 
quickly towards my former servant. My mind 
was full of the idea of getting hold of him. I 
could not forget Bernenstein’s remark, 44 Only 
Bauer now ! ” If I could secure Bauer we were 
safe. Safe in what ? I did not answer to 
myself, but the old idea was working in me. 
Safe in our secret and safe in our plan — in the 
plan on which we all, we here in the city, and 
those two at the hunting-lodge, had set our 
minds ! Bauer’s death, Bauer’s capture, Bauer’s 
silence however procured, would clear the great- 
est hinderanee from its way. 

Bauer stared intently at the house; I crept 
cautiously up behind him. His hand was in his 
trousers’ pocket ; where the curve of the elbow 
came there was a space between arm and body. 
I slipped in my left arm and hooked it firmly in- 
side his. He turned round and saw me. 

44 Thus we meet again, Bauer,” said 1. 

He was for a moment flabbergasted, and 
stared stupidly at me. 

44 Are you also hoping to see the King ? ” I 
asked. 

He began to recover himself. A slow cunning 
smile spread over his face. 

44 The King ? ” he asked. 

290 


A CROWD IN THE KONIGSTRASSE 

“ Well, he’s in Strelsau, isn’t he ? Who gave 
you the wound on your head ? ” 

Bauer moved his arm as though he meant to 
withdraw it from my grasp. He found himself 
tightly held. 

“ Where’s that bag of mine ? ” I asked. 

I do not know what he would have answered, 
for at this instant there came a sound from be- 
hind the closed door of the house. It was as if 
some one ran rapidly and eagerly towards the 
door. Then came an oath in a shrill voice, a 
woman’s voice, but harsh and rough. It was 
answered by an angry cry in a girl’s intonation. 
Full of eagerness, I drew my arm from Bauer’s 
and sprang forward. I heard a chuckle from him, 
and turned round to see his bandaged head re- 
treating rapidly down the street. I had no time 
to look to him ; for now I saw two men, shoulder 
to shoulder, making their way through the crowd, 
regardless of anyone in their way, and paying no 
attention to abuse or remonstrances. They 
were the Lieutenant and Rischenheim. Without 
a moment’s hesitation I set myself to push and 
battle a way through, thinking to join them in 
front. On they went, and on I went. All gave 
place before us in surly reluctance or frightened 
willingness. W e three were together in the first 
rank of the crowd when the door of the house 

was flung open, and a girl ran out. Her hair was 

291 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

disordered, her face pale, and her eyes full of 
alarm. There she stood on the doorstep, facing 
the crowd, which in an instant grew as if by 
magic to three times its former size, and, little 
knowing what she did, she cried in the eager 
accents of sheer terror : 

“ Help, help ! The King ! The King ! ” 


292 


CHAPTER XVII 


YOUNG RUPERT AND THE PLAY-ACTOR 

There rises often before my mind the picture of 
young Rupert, standing where Rischenheim left 
him, awaiting the return of his messenger and 
watching for some sign that should declare to 
Strelsau the death of its King which his own 
hand had wrought. His image is one that mem- 
ory holds clear and distinct, though time may 
blur the shape of greater and better men; and 
the position in which he was that morning gives 
play enough to the imagination. Save for Risch- 
enheim — a broken reed — and Bauer, who was 
gone none knew where, he stood alone against a 
kingdom which he had robbed of its head and a 
band of resolute men who would know no rest 
and no security so long as he lived. For pro- 
tection he had only a quick brain, his courage, 
and his secret. Yet he could not fly — he was 
without resources till his cousin furnished them 
— and at any moment his opponents might find 
themselves able to declare the King’s death and 
raise the city in hue and cry after him. Such 
men do not repent; but it may be that he re- 
gretted the enterprise which had led him on so 

293 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


far and forced on him a deed so momentous; yet 
to those who knew him it seems more likely that 
the smile broadened on his firm full lips as he 
looked down on the unconscious city. Well, I 
daresay he would have been too much for me; 
but I wish I had been the man to find him there. 
He would not have had it so ; for I believe that 
he asked no better than to cross swords again 
with Rudolf Rassendyll and set his fortunes on 
the issue. 

Down below, the old woman was cooking a 
stew for her dinner, now and then grumbling to 
herself that the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim 
was so long away, and Bauer, the rascal, drunk 
in some pothouse. The kitchen door stood 
open, and through it could be seen the girl Rosa, 
busily scrubbing the tiled floor; her colour was 
high and her eyes bright; from time to time she 
paused in her task, and, raising her head, seemed 
to listen. The time at which the King needed 
her was past, but the King had not come. How 
little the old woman knew for whom she listened ! 
All her talk had been of Bauer — why Bauer did 
not come, and what could have befallen him. It 
was grand to hold the King’s secret for him, and 
she would hold it with her life ; for he had been 
kind and gracious to her, and he was her man of 
all the men in Strelsau. Bauer was a stumpy 

fellow; the Count of Hentzau was handsome, 

294 


RUPERT AND THE PLAY-ACTOR 

handsome as the devil ; but the King was her 
man. And the King had trusted her; she would 
die before hurt should come to him. 

There were wheels in the street — quick-roll- 
ing wheels. They seemed to stop a few doors 
away, then to roll on again past the house. The 
girl’s head was raised ; the old woman, engrossed 
in her stew, took no heed. The girl’s straining 
ear caught a rapid step outside. Then it came — 
the knock, the sharp knock followed by five light 
ones. The old woman heard now : dropping her 
spoon into the pot, she lifted the mess off the 
fire and turned round, saying : 

6 ‘ There’s the rogue at last ! Open the door 
for him, Rosa.” 

Before she spoke Rosa had darted down the 
passage. The door opened and shut again. The 
old woman waddled to the threshold of the 
kitchen. The passage and the shop were dark 
behind the closed shutters ; but the figure by the 
girl’s side was taller than Bauer’s. 

“Who’s there?” cried Mother Holf sharply. 
“ The shop’s shut to-day : you can’t come in.” 

“But I am in,” came the answer, and Rudolf 
stepped towards her. The girl followed a pace 
behind, her hands clasped and her eyes alight 
with excitement. “ Don’t you know me ? ” asked 
Rudolf, standing opposite the old woman and 
smiling down on her. 


295 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


There, in the dim light of the low-roofed pas- 
sage, Mother Holf was fairly puzzled. She knew 
the story of Mr. Rassendyll ; she knew that he 
was again in Ruritania, it was no surprise to her 
that he should be in Strelsau ; but she did not 
know that Rupert had killed the King, and she 
had not seen the King close at hand since his ill- 
ness, and his beard impaired what had been a per- 
fect likeness. In fine she could not tell whether 
it were indeed the King who spoke to her or his 
counterfeit. 

“ Who are you ? ” she asked, curt and blunt in 
her confusion. 

The girl broke in with an amused laugh. 

“ Why, it’s the ” 

She paused. Perhaps the Kings identity was 
a secret. 

Rudolf nodded to her. 

“Tell her who I am,” said he. 

“ Why, mother, it’s the King,” whispered Rosa, 
laughing and blushing. “ The King, mother.” 

“ Aye, if the King’s alive, I’m the King,” said 
Rudolf. 

I suppose he wanted to find out how much the 
old woman knew. 

She made no answer, but stared up at his 
face. In her bewilderment she forgot to ask 
how he had learnt the signal that gained him 
admission. 


296 


RUPERT AND THE PLAY-ACTOR 

“ I’ve come to see the Count of Plentzau,” 
Rudolf continued. “ Take me to him at once.” 

The old woman was across his path in a mo- 
ment, all defiant, arms akimbo. 

“ Nobody can see the Count. He’s not here,” 
she blurted out. 

“ What, can’t the King see him ? Not even 
the King ? ” 

“ King ? ” she cried, peering at him. “ Are 
you the King ? ” 

Rosa burst out laughing. 

“ Mother, you must have seen the King a hun- 
dred times,” she laughed. 

“The King or his ghost — what does it mat- 
ter ? ” said Rudolf lightly. 

The old woman drew back with an appearance 
of sudden alarm. 

“ His ghost ? Is he ? ” 

“ His ghost! ” rang out in the girl’s merry 
laugh. “ Why here’s the King himself, mother. 
You don’t look much like a ghost, sir.” 

Mother Holfs face was livid now, and her 
eyes staring fixedly. Perhaps it shot into her 
brain that something had happened to the King, 
and that this man had come because of it — this 
man who was indeed the image, and might have 
been the spirit, of the King. She leant against 
the doorpost, her broad bosom heaving under her 

scanty stuff gown. Y et still — was it not the King? 

297 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ God help us ! ” she muttered in fear and be- 
wilderment. 

“ He helps us, never fear,” said Rudolf Rassen- 
dyll. “ Where is Count Rupert ? ” 

The girl had caught alarm from her mother’s 
agitation. 

“ He’s upstairs in the attic at the top of the 
house, sir,” she whispered in frightened tones, 
with a glance that fled from her mother’s terri- 
fied face to Rudolf’s set eyes and steady smile. 

What she said was enough for him. He 
slipped by the old woman and began to mount 
the stairs. 

The two watched him, Mother Holf as though 
fascinated, the girl alarmed but still triumphant : 
she had done what the King bade her. Rudolf 
turned the corner of the first landing and disap- 
peared from their sight. The old woman, swear- 
ing and muttering, stumbled back into her 
kitchen, put her stew on the fire, and began to 
stir it, her eyes set on the flames and careless of 
the pot. The girl watched her mother for a mo- 
ment, wondering how she could think of the 
stew, not guessing that she turned the spoon 
without a thought of what she did ; then she 
began to crawl, quickly but noiselessly, up the 
staircase in the track of Rudolf Rassendyll. She 
looked back once : the old woman stirred with a 

monotonous circular movement of her fat arm. 

298 


RUPERT AND THE PLAY-ACTOR 


Rosa, bent half-double, skimmed upstairs, till she 
came in sight of the King whom she was so proud 
to serve. He was on the top landing now, out- 
side the door of the large attic where Rupert of 
Hentzau was lodged. She saw him lay his hand 
on the latch of the door ; his other hand rested 
in the pocket of his coat. From the room no 
sound came; Rupert may have heard the step 
outside and stood motionless to listen. Rudolf 
opened the door and walked in. The girl darted 
breathlessly up the remaining steps, and coming 
to the door just as it swung back on the latch, 
crouched down by it, listening to what passed 
within, catching glimpses of forms and move- 
ments through the chinks of the crazy hinge and 
the crevices where the wood of the panel had 
sprung and left a narrow eyehole for her ab- 
sorbed gazing. 

Rupert of Hentzau had no thought of ghosts ; 
the men he killed lay still where they fell, and 
slept where they were buried. And he had no 
wonder at the sight of Rudolf Rassendyll. It 
told him no more than that Rischenheim’s errand 
had fallen out ill, at which he was not surprised, 
and that his old enemy was again in his path, at 
which (as I verily believe) he was more glad than 
sorry. As Rudolf entered, he had been half- 
way between window and table ; he came for- 
ward to the table now, and stood leaning the 

299 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

points of two fingers on the unpolished dirty 
wood. 

“ Ah, the play-actor ! ” said he, with a gleam 
of his teeth and a toss of his curls, while his 
second hand, like Mr. Rassendyll’s, rested in the 
pocket of his coat. 

Mr. Rassendyll himself had confessed that in 
old days it went against the grain with him 
when Rupert called him a play-actor. He was 
a little older now, and his temper more difficult 
to stir. 

“ Yes, the play-actor,” he answered, smiling. 
“ With a shorter part this time, though.” 

“ What part to-day ? Isn’t it the old one, the 
King with a pasteboard crown ? ” asked Rupert, 
sitting down on the table. “Faith, we shall do 
handsomely in Ruritania : you have a pasteboard 
crown, and I (humble man though I am) have 
given the other one a heavenly crown. What a 
brave show ! But perhaps I tell you news ? ” 

“No, I know what you’ve done.” 

“ I take no credit. It was more the dog’s do- 
ing than mine,” said Rupert carelessly. “ How- 
ever there it is, and dead he is, and there’s an 
end of it. What’s your business, play-actor ? ” 

At the repetition of this last word, to her so 
mysterious, the girl outside pressed her eyes 
more eagerly to the chink and strained her ears 

to listen more sedulously. And what did the 

300 


RUPERT AND THE PLAY-ACTOR 

Count mean by the “other one” and “a heavenly 
crown ” ? 

“ Why not call me King ? ” asked Rudolf. 

“ They call you that in Strelsau? ” 

“ Those that know I’m here.” 

“ And they are ? ” 

“ Some few score.” 

“ And thus,” said Rupert, waving an arm 
towards the window, “ the town is quiet and the 
flags fly.” 

“ You’ve been waiting to see them lowered ? ” 

“ A man likes to have some notice taken of 
what he has done,” Rupert complained. “ How- 
ever I can get them lowered when I will.” 

“ By telling your news ? Would that be good 
for yourself? ” 

“ Forgive me — not that way. Since the King 
has two lives, it is but in nature that he should 
have two deaths.” 

“ And when he has undergone the second ? ” 

“ I shall live at peace, my friend, on a certain 
source of income that I possess.” He tapped his 
breast-pocket with a slight defiant laugh. “ In 
these days,” said he, “ even queens must be 
careful about their letters. We live in moral 
times.” 

“You don’t share the responsibility for it,” 
said Rudolf, smiling. 

“ I make my little protest. But what’s your 

20 301 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


business, play-actor, for I think you’re rather 
tiresome ? ” 

Rudolf grew grave. He advanced towards 
the table and spoke in low serious tones. 

“My lord, you’re alone in this matter now. 
Rischenheim is a prisoner ; your rogue Bauer I 
encountered last night and broke his head.” 

“ Ah, you did ? ” 

“ You have what you know of in your hands. 
If you yield, on my honour I will save your life.” 

“You don’t desire my blood, then, most for- 
giving play-actor ? ” 

“ So much, that I daren’t fail to offer you life,” 
answered Rudolf Rassendyll. “ Come, sir, your 
plan has failed : give up the letter.” 

Rupert looked at him thoughtfully. 

“ You’ll see me safe off if I give it you ? ” he 
asked. 

“I’ll prevent your death. Yes, and I’ll see 
you safe.” 

“ Where to ? ” 

“To a fortress, where a trustworthy gentle- 
man will guard you.” 

“ For how long, my dear friend ? ” 

“ I hope for many years, my dear Count.” 

“ In fact, I suppose, as long as ? ” 

“ Heaven leaves you to the world, Count. It’s 
impossible to set you free.” 

“ That’s the offer, then ? ” 

302 


RUPERT AND THE PLAY-ACTOR 


“ The extreme limit of indulgence,” answered 
Rudolf. 

Rupert burst into a laugh, half of defiance, yet 
touched with the ring of true amusement. Then 
he lit a cigarette and sat puffing and smiling. 

“ I should wrong you by straining your kind- 
ness so far,” said he ; and in wanton insolence, 
seeking again to show Mr. Rassendyll the mean 
esteem in which he held him and the weariness 
his presence was, he raised his arms and stretched 
them above his head, as a man does in the fatigue 
of tedium. “ Heigho ! ” he yawned. 

But he had overshot the mark this time. With 
a sudden swift bound Rudolf was upon him ; his 
hands gripped Rupert’s wrists, and with his greater 
strength he bent back the Count’s pliant body 
till trunk and head lay flat on the table. Neither 
man spoke ; their eyes met ; each heard the 
other’s breathing and felt the vapour of it on his 
face. The girl outside had seen the movement 
of Rudolf’s figure, but her cranny did not serve 
to show her the two where they were now ; she 
knelt on her knees in ignorant suspense. Slowly 
and with patient force Rudolf began to work his 
enemy’s arms towards one another. Rupert had 
read his design in his eyes and resisted with tense 
muscles. It seemed as though his arms must 
crack ; but at last they moved. Inch by inch 

they were driven closer ; now the elbows almost 

303 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


touched ; now the wrists joined in reluctant con- 
tact. The sweat broke out on the Count’s brow, 
and stood in large drops on Rudolf’s. Now the 
wrists were side by side, and slowly the long 
sinewy fingers of Rudolf’s right hand, that held 
one wrist already in their vice, began to creep 
round the other. The grip seemed to have half 
numbed Rupert’s arms, and his struggles grew 
fainter. Round both wrists the sinewy fingers 
climbed and coiled ; gradually and timidly the 
grasp of the other hand was relaxed and with- 
drawn. Would the one hold both ? With a 
great spasm of effort Rupert put it to the proof. 
The smile that bent Mr. Rassendyll’s lips gave 
the answer. He could hold both, with one hand 
he could hold both : not for long, no, but for an 
instant. And then, in the instant, his left hand, 
free at last, shot to the breast of the Count’s 
coat. It was the same that he had worn at the 
hunting-lodge, and was ragged and torn from 
the boarhound’s teeth. Rudolf tore it further 
open, and his hand dashed in. 

“ God’s curse on you ! ” snarled Rupert of 
Hentzau. 

But Mr. Rassendyll still smiled. Then he 
drew out a letter. A glance at it showed him 
the Queen’s seal. As he glanced Rupert made 
another effort. The one hand, wearied out, 

gave way, and Mr. Rassendyll had no more than 

304 


RUPERT AND THE PLAY-ACTOR 


time to spring away, holding his prize. The 
next moment he had his revolver in his hand — 
none too soon, for Rupert of Hentzau’s barrel 
faced him, and they stood thus, opposite to one 
another, with no more than three or four feet be- 
tween the mouths of their weapons. 

There is, indeed, much that may be said against 
Rupert of Hentzau, the truth about him well 
nigh forbidding that charity of judgment which 
we are taught to observe towards all men. But 
neither I nor any man who knew him ever found 
in him a shrinking from danger or a fear of death. 
It was no feeling such as these, but rather a cool 
calculation of chances, that now stayed his hand. 
Even if he were victorious in the duel, and both 
did not die, yet the noise of the firearms would 
greatly decrease his chances of escape. More- 
over he was a noted swordsman, and conceived 
that he was Mr. Rassendyll’s superior in that ex- 
ercise. The steel offered him at once a better 
prospect of victory and more hope of a safe flight. 
So he did not pull his trigger, but, maintaining 
his aim the while, said : 

“I’m not a street bully, and I don’t excel in a 
rough-and-tumble. Will you fight now like a 
gentleman ? There’s a pair of blades in the case 
yonder.” 

Mr. Rassendyll, in his turn, was keenly alive 

to the peril that still hung over the Queen. To 

305 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


kill Rupert would not save her if he himself also 
were shot and left dead, or so helpless that he 
could not destroy the letter ; and while Rupert’s 
revolver was at his heart he could not tear it up 
nor reach the fire that burnt on the other side of 
the room. Nor did he fear the result of a trial 
with steel, for he had kept himself in practice and 
improved his skill since the days when he came 
first to Strelsau. 

“ As you will,” said he. “ Provided we settle 
the matter here and now, the manner is the 
same to me.” 

“ Put your revolver on the table, then, and I’ll 
lay mine by the side of it.” 

“ I beg your pardon,” smiled Rudolf, “ but you 
must lay yours down first.” 

“ I’m to trust you, it seems, but you won’t 
trust me ! ” 

“Precisely. You know you can trust me; 
you know that I can’t trust you.” 

A sudden flush swept over Rupert of Hent- 
zau’s face. There were moments when he saw, 
in the mirror of another’s face or words, the esti- 
mation in which honourable men held him; and 
I believe that he hated Mr. Rassendyll most 
fiercely, not for thwarting his enterprise, but be- 
cause he had more power than any other man to 
show him that picture. His brows knit in a frown 
and his lips shut tight. 


306 


RUPERT AND THE PLAY-ACTOR 


‘‘Aye, but though you won’t fire, you’ll de- 
stroy the letter,” he sneered. “ I know your fine 
distinctions.” 

“ Again I beg your pardon. Y ou know very 
well that, although all Strelsau were at the door, 
I wouldn’t touch the letter.” 

With an angry muttered oath Rupert flung 
his revolver on the table. Rudolf came forward 
and laid his by it. Then he took up both, and, 
crossing to the mantelpiece, laid them there; be- 
tween them he placed the Queen’s letter. A 
bright blaze burnt in the stove; it needed but 
the slightest motion of his hand to set the letter 
beyond all danger. But he placed it carefully 
on the mantelpiece, and, with a slight smile on 
his face, turned to Rupert, saying : 

“ Now shall we resume the bout that Fritz von 
Tarlenheim interrupted in the forest of Zenda? ” 

All this while they had been speaking in sub- 
dued accents, resolution in one, anger in the 
other, keeping the voice to an even deliberate 
lowness. The girl outside caught only a word 
here and there ; but now suddenly the flash of 
steel gleamed on her eyes through the crevice 
of the hinge. She gave a sudden gasp, and, 
pressing her face closer to the opening, listened 
and looked. For Rupert of Hentzau had taken 
the swords from their case and put them on the 

table. With a slight bow Rudolf took one, and 

307 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


the two assumed their positions. Suddenly Ru- 
pert lowered his point. The frown vanished 
from his face, and he spoke in his usual banter- 
ing tone. 

“ By the way,” said he, “ perhaps we’re letting 
our feelings run away with us. Have you more 
of a mind now to be King of Ruritania ? If so, 
I’m ready to be the most faithful of your sub- 
jects.” 

“ You honour me, Count.” 

“ Provided, of course, that I’m one of the most 
favoured and the richest. Come, come, the fool 
is dead now ; he lived like a fool and he died like 
a fool. The place is empty. A dead man has 
no rights and suffers no wrongs. Damn it, that’s 
good law, isn’t it ? Take his place and his wife. 
You can pay my price then. Or are you still so 
virtuous ? Faith, how little some men learn 
from the world they live in ! If I had your 
chance ” 

“ Come, Count, you’d be the last man to trust 
Rupert of Hentzau.” 

“ If I made it worth his while ? ” 

“ But he’s a man who would take the pay and 
betray his associate.” 

Again Rupert flushed. When he next spoke 
his voice was hard, cold, and low. 

“ By God, Rudolf Rassendyll,” said he, “ I’ll 
kill you here and now.” 


308 


RUPERT AND THE PLAY-ACTOR 

“ I ask no better than that you should try.” 

“ And then I’ll proclaim that woman for what 
she is through all Strelsau.” 

A smile came on his lips as he watched Ru- 
dolf’s face. 

“Guard yourself, my lord,” said Mr. Rassen- 
dyll. 

“ Aye, for no better than There, man, 

I’m ready for you.” For Rudolf’s blade had 
touched his in warning. 

The steel jangled. The girl’s pale face was at 
the crevice of the hinge. She heard the blades 
cross again and again. Then one would run up 
the other with a sharp grating slither. At times 
she caught a glimpse of a figure in quick forward 
lunge or rapid wary withdrawal. Her brain was 
almost paralysed. Ignorant of the mind and 
heart of young Rupert, she could not conceive 
that he tried to kill the King. Yet the words 
she had caught sounded like the words of men 
quarrelling, and she could not persuade herself 
that the gentlemen fenced only for pastime. 
They were not speaking now ; but she heard their 
hard breathing and the movement of their un- 
resting feet on the bare boards of the floor. Then 
a cry rang out, clear and merry with the fierce 
hope of triumph : 

“Nearly! nearly!” 

She knew the voice for Rupert of Hent- 

309 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

zau’s, and it was the King who answered 
calmly : 

“ Nearly isn’t quite.” 

Again she listened. They seemed to be paus- 
ing for a moment, for there was no sound, save 
of the hard breathing and deep-drawn pants of 
men who rest an instant in the midst of intense 
exertion. Then came again the clash and the 
slitherings ; and one of them crossed into her 
view. She knew the tall figure and she saw the 
red hair : it was the King. Backward step by 
step he seemed to be driven, coming nearer and 
nearer to the door. At last there was no more 
than a foot between him and her ; only the crazy 
panel prevented her putting out her hand to 
touch him. Again the voice of Rupert rang out 
in rich exultation : 

“ I have you now ! Say your prayers, King 
Rudolf ! ” 

“ Say your prayers ! ” Then they fought. It 
was earnest, not play. And it was the King — 
her King — her dear King, who was in great peril 
of his life! For an instant she knelt, still watch- 
ing. Then with a low cry of terror she turned 
and ran headlong down the steep stairs. Her 
mind could not tell what to do, but her heart 
cried out that she must do something for her 
King. Reaching the ground floor, she ran with 

wide-open eyes into the kitchen. The stew was 

310 


RUPERT AND THE PLAY-ACTOR 

on the hob ; the old woman still held the spoon, 
but she had ceased to stir and fallen into a 
chair. 

“ He’s killing the King ! He’s killing the 
King ! ” cried Rosa, seizing her mother by the 
arm. “ Mother, what shall we do ? He’s killing 
the King ! ” 

The old woman looked up with dull eyes and 
a stupid cunning smile. 

“ Let them alone,” she said. “ There’s no 
King here.” 

“Yes, yes. He’s upstairs in the Count’s room. 
They’re fighting, he and the Count of Hentzau. 
Mother, Count Rupert will kill him ! ” 

“ Let them alone. He the King ? He’s no 
king,” muttered the old woman again. 

For an instant Rosa stood looking down on 
her in helpless despair. Then a light flashed into 
her eyes. 

“ I must call for help ! ” she cried. 

The old woman seemed to spring to sudden 
life. She jumped up and caught her daughter 
by the shoulder. 

“ No, no,” she whispered in quick accents. 
“You — you don’t know. Let them alone, you 
fool ! It’s not our business. Let them alone.” 

“ Let me go, mother, let me go ! Mother, I 
must help the King ! ” 

“ I’ll not let you go,” said Mother Holf. 

311 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


But Rosa was young and strong ; her heart 
was fired with terror for the King’s danger. 

“ I must go ! ” she cried ; and she flung her 
mother’s grasp off from her, so that the old 
woman was thrown back into her chair, and the 
spoon fell from her hand and clattered on the 
tiles. But Rosa turned and fled down the pas- 
sage and through the shop. The bolts delayed 
her trembling fingers for an instant. Then she 
flung the door wide. A new amazement filled 
her eyes at the sight of the eager crowd before 
the house. Then her eyes fell on me where I 
stood beside the Lieutenant and Rischenheim, 
and she uttered her wild cry, “ Help ! The 
King ! ” 

With one bound I was by her and in the 
house, while Bernenstein cried, “ Quicker ! ” 
from behind. 




312 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE TRIUMPH OF THE KING 

The things that men call presages, presenti- 
ments, and so forth, are to my mind for the 
most part idle nothings : sometimes it is only 
that probable events cast before them a natural 
shadow which superstitious fancy twists into a 
heaven-sent warning ; oftener the same desire 
that gives conception works fulfilment, and the 
dreamer sees in the result of his own act and 
will a mysterious accomplishment independent 
of his effort. Yet when I observe thus calmly 
and with good sense on the matter to the Con- 
stable of Zenda, he shakes his head and answers: 
“But Rudolf Rassendyll knew from the first 
that he would come again to Strelsau and en- 
gage young Rupert point to point. Else why 
did he practise with the foils so as to be a better 
swordsman the second time than he was the first ? 
Mayn’t God do anything that Fritz von Tarlen- 
heim can’t understand ? A pretty notion, on my 
life ! ” And he goes off grumbling. 

Well, be it inspiration or be it delusion — and 
the difference stands often on a hair’s breadth — 
I am glad that Rudolf had it. For if a man once 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


grows rusty, it is everything short of impossible 
to put the fine polish on his skill again. Mr. 
Rassendyll had strength, will, coolness, and, of 
course, courage. None would have availed had 
not his eye been in perfect familiarity with its 
work and his hand obeyed it as readily as the 
bolt slips in a well-oiled groove. As the thing 
stood, the lithe agility and unmatched dash of 
young Rupert but just missed being too much 
for him. He was in deadly peril when the girl 
Rosa ran down to bring him aid. His practised 
skill was able to maintain his defence. He 
sought to do no more, but endured Rupert’s fiery 
attacks and wily feints in an almost motionless 
stillness. Almost, I say ; for the slight turns of 
wrist that seem nothing are everything, and 
served here to keep his skin whole and his life in 
him. 

There was an instant — Rudolf saw it in his 
eyes and dwelt on it when he lightly painted the 
scene for us — when there dawned on Rupert of 
Hentzau the knowledge that he could not break 
down his enemy’s guard. Surprise, chagrin, 
amusement, or something like it, seemed blended 
in his look. He could not make out how he 
was caught and checked in every effort, meeting, 
it seemed, a barrier of iron impregnable in rest. 
His quick brain grasped the lesson in an instant. 

If his skill were not the greater, the victory 

314 


THE TRIUMPH OF THE KING 

would not be his, for his endurance was the less. 
He was younger and his frame not so closely knit ; 
pleasure had taken its tithe from him ; perhaps a 
good cause goes for something. Even while he 
almost pressed Rudolf against the panel of the 
door, he seemed to know that his measure of suc- 
cess was full. But what the hand could not com- 
pass the head might contrive. In quickly con- 
ceived strategy he began to give pause in his 
attack, nay, he retreated a step or two. No scru- 
ples hampered his devices, no code of honour 
limited the means he would employ. Backing 
before his opponent, he seemed to Rudolf to be 
faint-hearted ; he was baffled, but seemed de- 
spairing ; he was weary, but played a more com- 
plete fatigue. Rudolf advanced, pressing and 
attacking, only to meet a defence as perfect as 
his own. They were in the middle of the room 
now, close by the table. Rupert, as though he 
had eyes in the back of his head, skirted round, 
avoiding it by a narrow inch. His breathing was 
quick and distressed, gasp tumbling over gasp, 
but still his eye was alert and his hand unerring. 
He had but a few moments’ more effort left in 
him : it was enough if he could reach his goal 
and perpetrate the trick on which his mind, fer- 
tile in every base device, was set. For it was 
towards the mantelpiece that his retreat, seeming 

forced, in truth so deliberate, led him. There 

315 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


was the letter, there lay the revolvers. The time 
to think of risks was gone by ; the time to boggle 
over what honour allowed or forbade had never 
come to Rupert of Hentzau. If he could not 
win by force and skill he would win by guile, 
and by treachery to the test that he had himself 
invited. The revolvers lay on the mantelpiece : 
he meant to possess himself of one, if he could 
gain an instant in which to snatch it. 

The device that he adopted was nicely chosen. 
It was too late to call a rest or ask breathing- 
space : Mr. Rassendyll was not blind to the 
advantage he had won, and chivalry would have 
turned to folly had it allowed such indulgence. 
Rupert was hard by the mantelpiece now. The 
sweat was pouring from his face, and his breast 
seemed like to burst in the effort after breath ; 
yet he had enough strength for his purpose. He 
must have slackened his hold on his weapon, for 
when Rudolf’s blade next struck it, it flew from 
his hand, twirled out of a nerveless grasp, and 
slid along the floor. Rupert stood disarmed, and 
Rudolf motionless. 

“ Pick it up,” said Mr. Rassendyll, never think- 
ing there had been a trick. 

“ Aye, and you’ll truss me while I do it.” 

“You young fool, don’t you know me yet ? ” 
and Rudolf lowered his blade, resting its point 

on the floor, while with his left hand he indicated 

316 


THE TRIUMPH OF THE KING 


•* 


Rupert’s weapon. Yet something warned him : 
it may be there came a look in Rupert’s eyes, 
perhaps of scorn for his enemy’s simplicity, per- 
haps of pure triumph in the graceless knavery. 
Rudolf stood waiting. 

“ You swear you won’t touch me while I pick 
it up ? ” asked Rupert, shrinking back a little and 
thereby getting an inch or two nearer the mantel- 
piece. 

“ You have my promise ; pick it up. I won’t 
wait any longer.” 

“You won’t kill me unarmed ? ” cried Rupert, 
in alarmed, scandalised expostulation. 

“No; but ” 

The speech went unfinished, unless a sudden 
cry were its ending. And as he cried, Rudolf 
Rassendyll, dropping his sword on the ground, 
sprang forward. For Rupert’s hand had shot 
out behind him and was on the butt of one of 
the revolvers. The whole trick flashed on Ru- 
dolf, and he sprang, flinging his long arms round 
Rupert. But Rupert had the revolver in his 
hand. 

In all likelihood the two neither heard nor 

heeded, though it seemed to me that the creaks 

and groans of the old stairs were loud enough to 

wake the dead. For now Rosa had given the 

alarm : Bernenstein and I — or I and Bernenstein 
21 317 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


(for I was first, and therefore may put myself 
first) — had rushed up. Hard behind us came 
Rischenheim, and hot on his heels a score 
of fellows, pushing and shouldering and tram- 
pling. W e in front had a fair start, and gained 
the stairs unimpeded ; Rischenheim was caught 
up in the ruck and gulfed in the stormy, tossing 
group that struggled for first footing on the steps. 
Yet soon they were after us, and we heard them 
reach the first landing as we sped up to the last. 
There was a confused din through all the house, 
and it seemed now to echo muffled and vague 
through the walls from the street without. I 
was conscious of it, although I paid no heed to 
anything but reaching the room where the King 
— where Rudolf — was. Now I was there, Ber- 
nenstein hanging to my heels. The door did 
not hold us a second. I was in, he after me. 
He slammed the door and set his back against 
it, just as the rush of feet flooded the highest 
flight of stairs. And at the moment a revolver 
shot rang clear and loud. 

The Lieutenant and I stood still, he against 
the door, I a pace farther into the room. The 
sight we saw was enough to arrest us with its 
strange interest. The smoke of the shot was 
curling about, but neither man seemed wounded. 
The revolver was in Rupert’s hand, and its muzzle 

smoked. But Rupert was jammed against the 

318 


THE TRIUMPH OF THE KING 

wall, just by the side of the mantelpiece. With 
one hand Rudolf had pinned his left arm to the 
wainscoting higher than his head, with the other 
he held his right wrist. I drew slowly nearer : if 
Rudolf was unarmed, I could fairly enforce a 
truce and put them on equality ; yet, though 
Rudolf was unarmed, I did nothing. The sight 
of his face stopped me. He was very pale and 
his lips were set, but it was his eyes that caught 
my gaze, for they were glad and merciless. I 
had never seen him look thus before. I turned 
from him to young Hentzau’s face. Rupert’s 
teeth were biting his under lip, the sweat dropped, 
and the veins swelled large and blue on his fore- 
head ; his eyes were set on Rudolf Rassendyll. 
Fascinated, I drew nearer. Then I saw what 
passed. Inch by inch Rupert’s arm curved, the 
elbow bent, the hand that had pointed almost 
straight from him and at Mr. Rassendyll pointed 
now away from both towards the window. But 
its motion did not stop ; it followed the line of 
a circle : now it was on Rupert’s arm ; still it 
moved, and quicker now, for the power of resist- 
ance grew less. Rupert was beaten ; he felt it 
and knew it, and I read the knowledge in his 
eyes. I stepped up to Rudolf Rassendyll. He 
heard or felt me, and turned his eyes for an in- 
stant. I do not know what my face said, but he 

shook his head and turned back to Rupert. The 

319 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


revolver, held still in the man’s own hand, was at 
his heart. The motion ceased, the point was 
reached. 

I looked again at Rupert. Now his face was 
easier ; there was a slight smile on his lips ; he 
flung back his comely head and rested thus 
against the wainscoting ; his eyes asked a ques- 
tion of Rudolf Rassendyll. I turned my gaze to 
where the answer was to come, for Rudolf made 
none in words. By the swiftest of movements 
he shifted his grasp from Rupert’s wrist and 
pounced on his hand. Now his forefinger rested 
on Rupert’s, and Rupert’s was on the trigger. 
I am no soft-heart, but I laid a hand on his 
shoulder. He took no heed ; I dared do no 
more. Rupert glanced at me. I caught his 
look, but what could I say to him ? Again my 
eyes were riveted on Rudolf’s finger. Now it 
was crooked round Rupert’s, seeming like a man 
who strangles another. 

I will not say more. He smiled to the last ; 
his proud head, which had never bent for shame, 
did not bend for fear. There was a sudden 
tightening in the pressure of that crooked fore- 
finger, a flash, a noise. He was held up against 
the wall for an instant by Rudolf ’s hand ; when 
that was removed he sank, a heap that looked 
all head and knees. 

But hot on the sound of the discharge came a 

320 


THE TRIUMPH OF THE KING 

shout and an oath from Bernenstein. He was 
hurled away from the door, and through it burst 
Rischenheim and the whole score after him. 
They were jostling one another and crying out 
to know what had passed and where the King 
was. High over all the voices, coming from the 
back of the throng, I heard the cry of the girl 
Rosa. But as soon as they were in the room, 
the same spell that had fastened Bernenstein and 
me to inactivity imposed its numbing power on 
them also. Only Rischenheim gave a sudden 
sob and ran forward to where his cousin lay. 
The rest stood staring. For a moment Rudolf 
faced them. Then, without a word, he turned 
his back. He put out the right hand with 
which he had just killed Rupert of Hentzau, 
and took the letter from the mantelpiece. He 
glanced at the envelope, then he opened the 
letter. The handwriting banished any last 
doubt he had ; he tore the letter across, and 
again in four pieces, and yet again to smaller 
fragments. Then he sprinkled the morsels of 
paper into the blaze of the fire. I believe that 
every eye in the room followed them and 
watched till they curled and crinkled into black 
wafery ashes. Thus at last the Queen’s letter 
was safe. 

When he had thus set the seal on his task, he 

turned round to us again. He paid no heed to 

321 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


Rischenheim, who was crouching down by the 
body of Rupert ; but he looked at Bernenstein 
and me, and then at the people behind us. He 
waited a moment before he spoke ; then his 
utterance was not only calm but also very slow, 
so that he seemed to be choosing his words care- 
fully. 

“ Gentlemen,” said he, “ a full account of this 
matter will be rendered by myself in due time. 
For the present it must suffice to say that this 
gentleman who lies here dead sought an inter- 
view with me on private business. I came here 
to find him, desiring, as he professed to desire, 
privacy. And here he tried to kill me. The 
result of his attempt you see.” 

I bowed low, Bernenstein did the like, and all 
the rest followed our example. 

“ A full account shall be given,” said Rudolf. 
“ Now let all leave me except the Count of Tar- 
lenheim and Lieutenant von Bernenstein.” 

Most unwillingly, with gaping mouths and 
wonder-struck eyes, the throng filed out of the 
door. Rischenheim rose to his feet. 

“You stay, if you like,” said Rudolf, and the 
Count again knelt by his kinsman. 

Seeing the rough bedsteads by the wall of the 
attic, I touched Rischenheim on the shoulder 
and pointed to one of them. Together we 

lifted Rupert of Hentzau. The revolver was 

322 


THE TRIUMPH OF THE KING 


still in his hand, but Bernenstein disengaged it 
from his grasp. Then Rischenheim and I laid 
him down, disposing his body decently and 
spreading over it his riding-cloak, still spotted 
with the mud gathered on his midnight expedi- 
tion to the hunting-lodge. His face looked 
much as before the shot was fired ; in death, as 
in life, he was the handsomest fellow in all Ruri- 
tania. I wager that many tender hearts ached 
and many bright eyes were dimmed for him 
when the news of his guilt and death went forth. 
There are ladies still in Strelsau who wear his 
trinkets in an ashamed devotion that cannot for- 
get. Well, even I, who had every good cause 
to hate and scorn him, set the hair smooth on 
his brow ; while Rischenheim was sobbing like a 
child, and young Bernenstein rested his head on 
his arm as he leant on the mantelpiece and 
would not look at the dead. Rudolf alone 
seemed not to heed or think of him. His eyes 
had lost their unnatural look of joy, and were 
now calm and tranquil. He took his own revol- 
ver from the mantelpiece and put it in his 
pocket, laying Rupert’s neatly where his had 
been. Then he turned to me, and said : 

“ Come, let us go to the Queen and tell her 
that the letter is beyond reach of hurt.” 

Moved by some impulse, I walked to the win- 
dow and put my head out. I was seen from be- 

323 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


low and a great shout greeted me. The crowd 
before the doors grew every moment : the people 
flocking from all quarters would soon multiply it 
a hundredfold ; for such news as had been carried 
from the attic by twenty wondering tongues 
spreads like a forest-fire. It would be through 
Strelsau in a few minutes, through the kingdom 
in an hour, through Europe in but little longer. 
Rupert was dead and the letter was safe, but 
what were we to tell that great concourse con- 
cerning their King ? A queer feeling of helpless 
perplexity came over me and found vent in a 
foolish laugh. Bernenstein was by my side ; he 
also looked out, and turned again with an eager 
face. - 

“ You’ll have a royal progress to your palace,” 
said he to Rudolf Rassendyll. 

Mr. Rassendyll made no answer, but, coming 
to me, took my arm. We went out, leaving 
Rischenheim by the body. I did not think of 
him ; Bernenstein probably thought that he 
would Keep his pledge given to the Queen, for 
he followed us immediately and without demur. 
There was nobody outside the door. The house 
was very quiet, and the tumult from the street 
reached us only in a muffled roar. But when we 
came to the foot of the stairs we found the two 
women. Mother Holf stood on the threshold of 

the kitchen, looking amazed and terrified. Rosa 

324 


THE TRIUMPH OF THE KING 


\ 


was clinging to her ; but as soon as Rudolf came 
in sight the girl sprang forward and flung herself 
on her knees before him, pouring out incoherent 
thanks to Heaven for his safety. He bent down 
and spoke to her in a whisper ; she looked up 
with a flush of pride on her face. He seemed to 
hesitate a moment ; he glanced at his hands, but 
he wore no ring save that which the Queen had 
given him long ago. Then he disengaged his 
chain and took his gold watch from his pocket. 
Turning it over, he showed me the monogram, 
R.R. 

“ Rudolfus Rex,” he whispered with a whim- 
sical smile, and pressed the watch into the girl’s 
hand, saying, “ Keep this to remind you of me.” 

She laughed and sobbed as she caught it with 
one hand, while with the other she held his. 

“You must let me go,” he said gently. “I 
have much to do.” 

I took her by the arm and induced her to rise. 
Rudolf, released, passed on to where the old wom- 
an stood. He spoke to her in a stern, distinct 
voice. 

“ 1 don’t know,” he said, “ how far you are a 
party to the plot that was hatched in your house. 
For the present I am content not to know, for 
it is no pleasure to me to detect disloyalty or to 
punish an old woman. But take care ! The first 

word you speak, the first act you do against me, 

325 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 



the King, will bring its certain and swift punish- 
ment. If you trouble me, I won’t spare you. 
In spite of traitors, I am still King in Strelsau.” 

He paused, looking hard in her face. Her lip 
quivered and her eyes fell. 

“ Yes, ” he repeated, “ I am King in Strelsau. 
Keep your hands out of mischief and your tongue 
quiet.” 

She made no answer. He passed on. I was 
following, but as I went by her the old woman 
clutched my arm. 

“ In God’s name, who is he ? ” she whispered. 

“ Are you mad ? ” I asked, lifting my brows. 
“ Don’t you know the King when he speaks to 
you ? And you’d best remember what he said. 
He has servants who’ll do his orders.” 

She let me go and fell back a step. Young 
Bernenstein smiled at her ; he at least found more 
pleasure than anxiety in our position. Thus, 
then, we left them : the old woman terrified, 
amazed, doubtful ; the girl with ruddy cheeks and 
shining eyes, clasping in her two hands the keep- 
sake that the King himself had given her. 

Bernenstein had more presence of mind than 
I. He ran forward, got in front of both of us, 
and flung the door open. Then, bowing very 
low, he stood aside to let Rudolf pass. The street 
was full from end to end now, and a mighty shout 

of welcome rose from thousands of throats. Hats 

326 


THE TRIUMPH OF THE KING 


and handkerchiefs were waved in mad exultation 
and triumphant loyalty. The tidings of the 
King’s escape had flashed through the city, and 
all were there to do him honour. They had seized 
some gentleman’s landau and taken out the horses. 
The carriage stood now before the door of the 
house. Rudolf had waited a moment on the 
threshold, lifting his hat once or twice ; his face 
was perfectly calm, and I saw no trembling in 
his hands. In an instant a dozen arms took 
gentle hold of him and impelled him forward. 
He mounted the carriage ; Bernenstein and I 
followed, with bare heads, and sat on the back 
seat, facing him. The people were round as thick 
as bees, and it seemed as though we could not 
move without crushing somebody. Yet presently 
the wheels turned and they began to drag us away 
at a slow walk. Rudolf kept raising his hat, bow- 
ing now to right, now to left. But once, as he 
turned, his eyes met ours. In spite of what was 
behind and what was in front, we all three smiled. 

“ I wish they’d go a little quicker,” said Ru- 
dolf in a whisper, as he conquered his smile and 
turned again to acknowledge the loyal greeting 
of his subjects. 

But what did they know of any need for haste? 
They did not know what stood on the turn of 
the next few hours, nor the momentous question 

that pressed for instant decision. So far from 

327 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


hurrying, they lengthened our ride by many 
pauses ; they kept us before the Cathedral, while 
some ran and got the joy-bells ringing ; we were 
stopped to receive improvised bouquets from the 
hands of pretty girls and impetuous handshak- 
ings from enthusiastic loyalists. Through it all 
Rudolf kept his composure, and seemed to play 
his part with native kingliness. I heard Bernen- 
stein whisper, “ By God, he must stick to it ! ” 

At last we came in sight of the palace. Here 
also there was a great stir. Many officers and 
soldiers were about. I saw the Chancellor’s car- 
riage standing near the portico, and a dozen 
other handsome equipages were waiting till they 
could approach. Our human horses drew us 
slowly up to the entrance. Helsing was on the 
steps, and ran down to the carriage, greeting the 
King with passionate fervour. The shouts of the 
crowd grew louder still. 

But suddenly a stillness fell on them ; it lasted 
but an instant, and was the prelude to a deafen- 
ing roar. I was looking at Rudolf and saw his 
head turn suddenly and his eyes grow bright. I 
looked where his eyes had gone. There, on the 
top step of the broad marble flight, stood the 
Queen, pale as the marble itself, stretching out 
her hands towards Rudolf. The people had seen 
her : she it was whom this last rapturous cheer 

greeted. My wife stood close behind her, and 

328 


THE TRIUMPH OF THE KING 


farther back others of her ladies. Bernenstein 
and I sprang out. With a last salute to the peo- 
ple Rudolf followed us. He walked up to the 
highest step but one, and there fell on one knee 
and kissed the Queens hand. I was by him, and 
when he looked up in her face I heard him say : 

“ All’s well. He’s dead, and the letter burnt.” 

She raised him with her hand. Her lips 
moved, but it seemed as though she could find 
no words to speak. She put her arm through 
his, and thus they stood for an instant, fronting 
all Strelsau. Again the cheers rang out, and 
young Bernenstein sprang forward, waving his 
helmet and crying like a man possessed, “ God 
save the King ! ” I was carried away by his en- 
thusiasm and followed his lead. All the people 
took up the cry with boundless fervour, and thus 
we all, high and low in Strelsau, that afternoon 
hailed Mr. Rassendyll for our King. There has 
been no such zeal since Henry the Lion came 
back from his wars, a hundred and fifty years ago. 

“ And yet,” observed old Helsing at my el- 
bow, “ agitators say there is no enthusiasm for 
the House of Elphberg ! ” He took a pinch of 
snuff in scornful satisfaction. 

Young Bernenstein interrupted his cheering 
with a short laugh, but fell to his task again in a 
moment. I had recovered my senses by now, 

and stood panting, looking down on the crowd. 

329 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


It was growing dusk and the faces became 
blurred into a white sea. Yet suddenly I seemed 
to discern one glaring up at me from the middle 
of the crowd — the pale face of a man with a 
bandage about his head. I caught Bernenstein’s 
arm and whispered “ Bauer,” pointing with my 
finger where the face was. But even as I point- 
ed, it was gone : though it seemed impossible for 
a man to move in that press, yet it was gone. It 
had come like a cynic’s warning across the scene 
of mock triumph, and went swiftly as it had 
come, leaving behind it a reminder of our peril. 
I felt suddenly sick at heart, and almost cried 
out to the people to have done with their silly 
shouting. 

At last we got away. The plea of fatigue met 
all visitors who made their way to the door and 
sought to offer their congratulations; it could 
not disperse the crowd that hung persistently and 
contentedly about, ringing us in the palace with 
a living fence. We still heard their jests and 
cheers when we were alone in the small saloon 
that opens on the gardens. My wife and I had 
come there at Budolfs request; Bernenstein had 
assumed the duty of guarding the door. Even- 
ing was now falling fast, and it grew dark. The 
garden was quiet ; the distant noise of the crowd 
threw its stillness into greater relief. Rudolf 

told us there the story of his struggle with Ru- 

330 


THE TRIUMPH OF THE KING 


pert of Hentzau in the attic of the old house, 
dwelling on it as lightly as he could. The Queen 
stood by his chair — she would not let him rise; 
when he finished by telling how he burnt her 
letter, she stooped suddenly and kissed him on 
the brow. Then she looked straight across at 
Helga almost defiantly; but Helga ran to her 
and caught her in her arms. 

Rudolf Rassendyll sat with his head resting 
on his hand. He looked up once at the two 
women; then he caught my eye, and beckoned 
me to come to him. I approached him, but for 
several moments he did not speak. Again he 
motioned to me, and, resting my hand on the 
arm of his chair, I bent my head close down to 
his. He glanced again at the Queen, seeming 
afraid that she would hear what he wished to say. 

“ Fritz,” he whispered at last, “ as soon as it’s 
fairly dark I must get away. Bernenstein will 
come with me. You must stay here.” 

“ Where can you go? ” 

“ To the lodge. I must meet Sapt and arrange 
matters with him.” 

I did not understand what plan he had in his 
head, or what scheme he could contrive. But at 
the moment my mind was not directed to such 
matters ; it was set on the sight before my eyes. 

“ And the Queen? ” I whispered in answer to 

him. 


331 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


Low as my voice was, she heard it. She turned 
to us with a sudden startled movement, still 
holding Helga’s hand. Her eyes searched our 
faces, and she knew in an instant of what we 
had been speaking. A little longer still she 
stood, gazing at us. Then she suddenly sprang 
forward and threw herself on her knees before 
Rudolf, her hands uplifted and resting on his 
shoulders. She forgot our presence and every- 
thing in the world save her great dread of losing 
him again. 

“Not again, Rudolf, my darling! Not again! 
Rudolf, I can’t bear it again.” 

Then she dropped her head on his knees and 
sobbed. 

He raised his hand and gently stroked the 
gleaming hair. But he did not look at her. He 
gazed out at the garden, which grew dark and 
dreary in the gathering gloom. His lips were 
tight set and his face pale and drawn. I watched 
him for a moment; then I drew my wife away, 
and we sat down at a table some way off. From 
outside still came the cheers and tumult of the 
joyful excited crowd. Within there was no 
sound but the Queen’s stifled sobbing. Rudolf 
caressed her shining hair and gazed into the night 
with sad set eyes. 

She raised her head and looked into his face. 

“ You’ll break my heart,” she said. 

332 


CHAPTER XIX 


FOR OUR LOVE AND HER HONOUR! 

Rupert of Hentzau was dead. That was the 
thought which among all our perplexities came 
back to me, carrying with it a wonderful relief. 
To those who have not learnt in fighting against 
him the height of his audacity and the reach of 
his designs it may well seem incredible that his 
death should breed comfort at a moment when 
the future was still so dark and uncertain. Yet 
to me it was so great a thing that I could hardly 
bring myself to the conviction that we had done 
with him. True he was dead ; but could he not 
strike a blow at us even from beyond the gulf ? 

Such were the half-superstitious thoughts that 
forced their way into my mind as I stood looking 
out on the crowd which obstinately encircled 
the front of the palace. I was alone; Rudolf 
was with the Queen, my wife was resting, Ber- 
nenstein had sat down to a meal for which I could 
find no appetite. By an effort I freed myself 
from my fancies and tried to concentrate my 
brain on the facts of our position. We were 
ringed round with difficulties. To solve them 
was beyond my power ; but I knew where my 

22 333 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


wish and longing lay. I had no desire to find 
means by which Rudolf Rassendyll should escape 
unknown from Strelsau, the King, although dead, 
be again in death the King, and the Queen be 
left desolate on her mournful and solitary throne. 
It might be that a brain more astute than mine 
could bring all this to pass. My imagination 
would have none of it, but dwelt lovingly on the 
reign of him who was now King in Strelsau, de- 
claring that to give the kingdom such a ruler 
would be a splendid fraud, and prove a stroke so 
bold as to defy detection. Against it stood only 
the suspicions of Mother Holf — fear or money 
would close her lips- -and the knowledge of 
Bauer; Bauer’s mouth could also be shut, aye, 
and should be before we were many days older. 
My reverie led me far; I saw the future years 
unroll before me in the fair record of a great 
King’s sovereignty. It seemed to me that by 
the violence and bloodshed we had passed through 
Fate, for once penitent, w r as but righting the 
mistake made when Rudolf was not born a king. 

For a long wdiile I stood thus, musing and 
dreaming ; I was roused by the sound of the door 
opening and closing; turning, I saw the Queen. 
She was alone, and came towards me with timid 
steps. She looked out for a moment on the 
Square and the people, but drew back suddenly 

in apparent fear lest they should see her. Then 

334 


OUR LOVE AND HER HONOUR! 


she sat down and turned her face towards mine. 
I read in her eyes something of the conflict of 
emotions which possessed her; she seemed at 
once to deprecate my disapproval and to ask my 
sympathy; she prayed me to be gentle to her 
fault and kind to her happiness; self-reproach 
shadowed her joy, but the golden gleam of it 
strayed through. I looked eagerly at her: this 
would not have been her bearing had she come 
from a last farewell; for the radiance was there, 
however much dimmed by sorrow and by fear- 
fulness. 

“ Fritz,” she began softly, “ I am wicked — so 
wicked. Won’t God punish me for my glad- 
ness? 

I fear I paid little heed to her trouble, though 
I can understand it well enough now. 

“ Gladness? ” I cried in a low voice. “ Then 
you’ve persuaded him ? ” 

She smiled at me for an instant. 

“ I mean you’ve agreed ? ” I stammered. 

Her eyes again sought mine, as she said in a 
whisper : 

“ Some day, not now. Oh, not now. Now 
would be too much. But some day, Fritz, if 
God will not deal too hardly with me, I — I shall 
be his, Fritz.” 

I was intent on my vision, not on hers. I 

wanted him King ; she did not care what he was, 

335 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

so that he was hers, so that he should not leave 
her. 

‘‘He’ll take the throne?” I cried triumphantly. 

“No, no, no. Not the throne. He’s going 
away.” 

“ Going away! ” I could not keep the dismay 
out of my voice. 

“Yes, now. But not — not for ever. It will 
be long — oh, so long! — but I can bear it, if I 
know that at last ” 

She stopped, still looking up at me with eyes 
that implored pardon and sympathy. 

“ I don’t understand,” said I bluntly, and I 
fear gruffly also. 

“ You were right,” she said : “ I did persuade 
him. He wanted to go away again as he went 
before. Ought I to have let him? Yes, yes! 
But I couldn’t. Fritz, hadn’t I done enough ? 
You don’t know what I’ve endured. And I 
must endure more still. For he will go now, 
and the time will be very long. But at last we 
shall be together. There is pity in God; we 
shall be together at last.” 

“ If he goes now, how can he come back? ” 

“ He will not come back ; I shall go to him. 
I shall give up the throne and go to him, some 
day, when I can be spared from here, when I’ve 
done my — my work.” 

I was aghast at this shattering of my vision, 

336 


OUR LOVE AND HER HONOUR! 

yet I could not be hard to her. I said nothing, 
but took her hand and pressed it. 

“ You wanted him to be King?” she whis- 
pered. 

“ With all my heart, madame,” said I. 

“He wouldn’t, Fritz. No, and I shouldn’t 
dare to do that either.” 

I fell back on the practical difficulties. 

“ But how can he go ? ” I asked. 

“ I don’t know. But he knows : he has a 
plan.” 

We fell again into silence ; her eyes grew more 
calm and seemed to look forward in patient hope 
to the time when her happiness should come to 
her. I felt like a man suddenly robbed of the 
exaltation of wine and sunk to dull apathy. 

“ I don’t see how he can go,” I said sullenly. 

She did not answer me. A moment later the 
door again opened. Rudolf came in, followed by 
Bernenstein. Both wore riding boots and cloaks. 
I saw on Bernenstein’s face just such a look of 
disappointment as I knew must be on mine. 
Rudolf seemed calm and even happy. He 
walked straight up to the Queen. 

“ The horses will be ready in a few minutes,” 
he said gently. Then, turning to me, he asked, 
“ You know what we are going to do, Fritz? ” 

“ Not I, sire,” I answered sulkily. 

“Not I, sire!” he repeated, in half- merry half- 

337 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


sad mockery. Then he came between Bernen- 
stein and me and passed his arms through ours. 
“You two villains!” he said. “You two un- 
scrupulous villains! Here you are as rough as 
bears, because I won’t be a thief! Why have I 
killed young Rupert and left you rogues alive? ” 

I felt the friendly pressure of his hand on my 
arm. I could not answer him. With every 
word from his lips and every moment of his pres- 
ence my sorrow grew keener that he would not 
stay. Bernenstein looked across at me and 
shrugged his shoulders despairingly. Rudolf 
gave a little laugh. 

“You won’t forgive me for not being as great 
a rogue, won’t you? ” he asked. 

Well, I found nothing to say, but I took my 
arm out of his and clasped his hand. He gripped 
mine hard. 

“That’s old Fritz!” he said; and he caught 
hold of Bernenstein’s hand, which the Lieutenant 
yielded with some reluctance. “ Now for the 
plan,” said he. “ Bernenstein and I set out at 
once for the lodge — yes, publicly, as publicly as 
we can. I shall ride right through the people 
there, showing myself to as many as will look at 
me, and letting it be known to everybody where 
I’m going. We shall get there quite early to- 
morrow, before it’s light. There we shall find 

what you know. We shall find Sapt too, and 

338 


V 


OUR LOVE AND HER HONOUR! 

he’ll put the finishing touches to our plan for us. 
Hullo, what’s that? ” 

There was a sudden fresh shouting from the 
large crowd that still lingered outside the palace. 
I ran to the window and saw a commotion in the 
midst of them. I flung the sash up. Then I 
heard a well-known loud strident voice : 

“ Make way, you rascals, make way ! ” 

I turned round again, full of excitement. 

“ It’s Sapt himself!” I said. “He’s riding 
like mad through the crowd, and your servant’s 
just behind him.” 

“ My God, what’s happened ? Why have they 
left the lodge ? ” cried Bernenstein. 

The Queen looked up in startled alarm, and, 
rising to her feet, came and passed her arm 
through Rudolf’s. Thus we all stood, listening 
to the people good-naturedly cheering Sapt, 
whom they had recognised, and bantering James, 
whom they took for a servant of the Constable’s. 

The minutes seemed very long as we waited 
in utter perplexity, almost in consternation. The 
same thought was in the mind of all of us, silently 
imparted by one to another in the glances we ex- 
changed. What could have brought them from 
their guard of the great secret save its discovery ? 
They would never have left their post while the 
fulfilment of their trust was possible. By some 

mishap, some unforeseen chance, the King’s body 

339 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


must have been discovered. Then the King’s 
death was known, and the news of it might any 
moment astonish and bewilder the city. 

At last the door was flung open, and a servant 
announced the Constable of Zenda. Sapt was 
covered with dust and mud, and James, who en- 
tered close on his heels, was in no better plight. 
Evidently they had ridden hard and furiously ; 
indeed they were still panting. Sapt, with a 
most perfunctory bow to the Queen, came 
straight to where Rudolf stood. 

“ Is he dead ? ” he asked, without preface. 

“ Yes, Rupert is dead,” answered Mr. Rassen- 
dyll : “I killed him.” 

6 And the letter ? ” 

“ I burnt it.” 

“ And Rischenheim ? ” 

The Queen struck in. 

“The Count of Luzau-Rischenheim will say 
and do nothing against me,” she said. 

Sapt lifted his brows a little. 

“ Well, and Bauer ? ” he asked. 

“ Bauer’s at large,” I answered. 

“ Hum ! Well, it’s only Bauer,” said the Con- 
stable, seeming tolerably well pleased. Then 
his eyes fell on Rudolf and Bernenstein. He 
stretched out his hand and pointed to their rid- 
ing-boots. “ Whither away, so late at night ? ” 
he asked. 


340 


OUR LOVE AND HER HONOUR! 


“ First together to the lodge, to find you ; 
then I alone to the frontier,” said Mr. Rassendyll. 

“ One thing at a time. The frontier will wait. 
What does Your Majesty want with me at the 
lodge ? ” 

“ I want so to contrive that I shall be no 
longer Your Majesty,” said Rudolf. 

Sapt flung himself in a chair and took off his 
gloves. 

“ Come, tell me what has happened to-day in 
Strelsau,” he said. 

We gave a short and hurried account. He 
listened with few signs of approval or disap- 
proval ; but I thought I saw a gleam in his eyes 
when I described how all the city had hailed Ru- 
dolf as its King, and the Queen received him as 
her husband before the eyes of all. Again the 
hope and vision, shattered by Rudolf s calm res- 
olution, inspired me. Sapt said little, but he 
had the air of a man with some news in re- 
serve. He seemed to be comparing what we 
told him with something already known to him 
but unknown to us. The little servant stood all 
the while in respectful silence by the door ; but 
I could see by a glance at his alert face that he 
followed the whole scene with keen attention. 

At the end of the story Rudolf turned to Sapt. 

“ And your secret — is it safe ? ” he asked. 

“ Aye, if s safe enough.” 

3il 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ Nobody has seen what you had to hide ? ” 
“No; and nobody knows that the King is 
dead,” answered Sapt. 

“ Then what brings you here ? ” 

“ Why, the same thing that was about to bring 
you to the lodge : the need of a meeting between 
yourself and me, sire.” 

“ But the lodge, — is it left unguarded ? ” 

“ The lodge is safe enough,” said Colonel Sapt. 
Unquestionably there was a secret, a new 
secret, hidden behind the curt words and brusque 
manner. I could restrain myself no longer, and 
sprang forward, saying : 

“ What is it ? Tell us, Constable ! ” 

He looked at me, then glanced at Mr. Rassen- 
dyll. 

“ I should like to hear your plan first,” he said 
to Rudolf. “ How do you mean to account for 
your presence alive in the city to-day, when the 
King has lain dead in the hunting-lodge since 
last night ? ” 

W e drew closer together as Rudolf began his 
answer. Sapt alone lay back in his chair. The 
Queen also had resumed her seat ; she seemed 
to pay little heed to what we said. 

I think that she was still engrossed with the 
struggle and tumult in her own soul. The sin of 
which she accused herself, and the joy to which 

her whole being sprang in a greeting which would 

342 


OUR LOVE AND HER HONOUR! 


not be abashed, were at strife between them- 
selves, but joined hands to exclude from her 
mind any other thought. 

“ In an hour I must be gone from here,” began 
Rudolf. 

“If you wish that, it’s easy,” observed Colonel 
Sapt. 

“ Come, Sapt, be reasonable,” smiled Mr. Ras- 
sendyll. “ Early to-morrow we, you and I ” 

“ Oh, I also ? ” asked the Colonel. 

“Yes : you, Bernenstein, and I will be at the 
lodge.” 

“ That’s not impossible, though I have had 
nearly enough riding.” 

Rudolf fixed his eyes firmly on Sapt’s. 

“You see,” said he, “the King reaches his 
hunting- lodge early in the morning.” 

“ I follow you, sire.” 

“And what happens there, Sapt? Does he 
shoot himself accidentally ? ” 

“ Well, that happens sometimes.” 

“ Or does an assassin kill him ? ” 

“ Eh, but you’ve made the best assassin un- 
available.” 

Even at this moment I could not help smiling 
at the old fellow’s surly wit and Rudolf’s 
amused tolerance of it. 

“ Or does his faithful attendant, Herbert, 
shoot him ? ” 


343 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ What, make poor Herbert a murderer ? ” 

“ Oh, no ! By accident — and then, in re- 
morse, kill himself.” 

“ That’s very pretty. But doctors have awk- 
ward views as to when a man can have shot him- 
self.” 

“ My good Constable, doctors have palms as 
well as ideas. If you fill the one you supply the 
other.” 

“ I think,” said Sapt, “ that both the plans are 
good. Suppose we choose the latter, what 
then ? ” 

“ Why, then, by to-morrow at mid-day the 
news flashes through Ruritania — yes, and 
through Europe — that the King, miraculously 
preserved to-day ” 

“ Praise be to God ! ” interjected Colonel 
Sapt ; and young Bernenstein laughed. 

“ — Has met a tragic end.” 

“ It will occasion great grief,” said Sapt. 

“ Meanwhile I am safe over the frontier.” 

“ Oh, you’re quite safe ? ” 

“ Absolutely. And in the afternoon of to- 
morrow, you and Bernenstein will set out for 
Strelsau, bringing with you the body of the 
King.” And Rudolf, after a pause, whispered : 
“ You must shave his face. And if the doctors 
want to talk about how long he’s been dead, 

why, they have, as I say, palms.” 

344 


OUR LOVE AND HER HONOUR! 


Sapt sat silent for a while, apparently consider- 
ing the scheme. It was risky enough in all con- 
science, but success had made Rudolf bold, and 
he had learnt how slow suspicion is if a decep- 
tion be bold enough. It is only likely frauds 
that are detected. 

“ Well, what do you say ? ” asked Mr. Ras- 
sendyll. I observed that he said nothing to 
Sapt of what the Queen and he had determined 
to do afterward. 

Sapt wrinkled his forehead. I saw him glance 
at James, and the slightest, briefest smile showed 
on James’s face. 

“ It’s dangerous, of course,” pursued Rudolf. 
“ But I believe that when they see the King’s 
body ” 

“ That’s the point,” interrupted Sapt. “ They 
can’t see the King’s body.” 

Rudolf looked at him with some surprise. 
Then speaking in a low voice, lest the Queen 
should hear and be distressed, he went on : 

“You must prepare it, you know. Bring it 
here in a shell ; only a few officials need see the 
face.” 

Sapt rose to his feet and stood before Mr. 
Rassendyll. 

“ The plan’s a pretty one, but it breaks down 

at one point,” said he in a strange voice, even 

harsher than his was wont to be. I was on fire 

345 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


with excitement, for I would have staked my 
life now that he had some strange tidings for us. 
“ There is no body,” said he. 

Even Mr. Rassendyll’s composure gave way. 
He sprang forward, catching Sapt by the arm. 

“No body? What do you mean?” he ex- 
claimed. 

Sapt cast another glance at James, and then 
began in an even mechanical voice, as though he 
were reciting a lesson he had learnt, or playing a 
part that habit made familiar : 

“ That poor fellow Herbert carelessly left a 
candle burning where the oil and the wood were 
kept,” he said. “ This afternoon, about six, James 
and I lay down for a nap after our meal. At 
about seven James came to my side and roused 
me. My room was full of smoke. The lodge 
was ablaze. I darted from my bed : the fire had 
made too much headway, we could not hope to 

quench it ; we had but one thought ” He 

suddenly paused, and looked at James. 

“ But one thought, to save our companion,” 
said James gravely. 

“ But one thought, to save our companion. 
We rushed to the door of the room where he 
was. I opened the door and tried to enter. It 
was certain death. James tried, but fell back. 
Again I rushed in. James pulled me back : it 
was but another death. We had to save our- 


OUR LOVE AND HER HONOUR! 


selves. We gained the open door. The lodge 
was*a sheet of flame. We could do nothing but 
stand watching, till the swiftly burning wood 
blackened to ashes and the flames died down. 
As we watched we knew that all in the cottage 
must be dead. What could we do? At last 
James started off in the hope of getting help. 
He found a party of charcoal-burners, and they 
came with him. The flames had burnt down 
now ; and we and they approached the charred 
ruins. Everything .^vas in ashes. But” — he 
lowered his voice— “ we found what seemed to 
be the body of Boris the hound ; in another 
room was a charred corpse, whose hunting-horn, 
melted to a molten mass, told us it had been 
Herbert the forester. And there was another 
corpse, almost shapeless, utterly unrecognisable. 
W e saw it ; the charcoal-burners saw it. Then 
more peasants came round, drawn by the sight 
of the flames. None could tell who it was ; 
only I and James knew. And we mounted our 
horses and have ridden here to tell the King.” 

Sapt finished his lesson or his story. A sob 
burst from the Queen, and she hid her face in her 
hands. Bernenstein and I, amazed at this strange 
tale, scarcely understanding whether it were jest 
or earnest, stood staring stupidly at Sapt. Then 
I, overcome by the strange thing, turned half- 

foolish by the bizarre mingling of comedy and 

347 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


impressiveness in Sapt’s rendering of it, plucked 
him by the sleeve, and asked, with something 
between a laugh and a gasp : 

“Who had that other corpse been, Constable ? ” 

He turned his small keen eyes on me in per- 
sistent gravity and unflinching effrontery : 

“ A Mr. Rassendyll, a friend of the King’s, 
who with his servant James was awaiting His 
Majesty’s return from Strelsau. His servant 
here is ready to start for England to tell Mr. 
Rassendyll’s relatives the news.” 

The Queen had begun to listen before now ; 
her eyes were fixed on Sapt, and she had stretched 
out one arm to him, as if imploring him to read 
her his riddle. But a few words had in truth 
declared his device plainly enough in all its sim- 
plicity. Rudolf Rassendyll was dead, his body 
burnt to a cinder, and the King was alive, w r hole, 
and on his throne in Strelsau. Thus had Sapt 
caught from James the servant the infection of 
his madness, and had fulfilled in action the strange 
imagination which the little man had unfolded to 
him in order to pass their idle hours at the lodge. 

Suddenly Mr. Rassendyll spoke in clear short 
tones : 

“ This is all a lie, Sapt,” said he, and his lips 
curled in contemptuous amusement. 

“It’s no lie that the lodge is burnt and the 

bodies in it, and that half a hundred of the peas- 

348 


OUR LOVE AND HER HONOUR! 


ants know it, and that no man could tell the 
body for the King’s. As for the rest, it is a lie. 
But I think the truth in it is enough to serve.” 

The two men stood facing one another with 
defiant eyes. Rudolf had caught the meaning 
of the great and audacious trick which Sapt and 
his companion had played. It was impossible 
now to bring the King’s body to Strelsau ; it 
seemed no less impossible to declare that the 
man burnt in the lodge was the King. Thus 
Sapt had forced Rudolf’s hand ; he had been in- 
spired by the same vision as we, and endowed 
with more unshrinking boldness. But when I 
saw how Rudolf looked at him, I did not know 
but that they would go from the Queen’s pres- 
ence set on a deadly quarrel. Mr. Rassendyll, 
however, mastered his temper. 

“You’re all bent on having me a rascal,” he 
said coldly. “ Fritz and Bernenstein here urge 
me; you, Sapt, try to force me. James there is 
in the plot, for all I know. 

“ I suggested it, sir,” said James, not defiantly 
or with disrespect, but as in simple dutiful obedi- 
ence to his master’s implied question. 

“ As I thought — all of you ! Well, I won’t be 
forced. I see now that there’s no way out of this 
affair, save one. That one I’ll follow.” 

W e none of us spoke, but waited till he should 

be pleased to continue. 

23 349 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“Of the Queens letter I need say nothing, 
and will say nothing,” he pursued. “ But I will 
tell them that I’m not the King, but Rudolf 
Rassendyll ; and that I played the King only in 
order to serve the Queen and punish Rupert of 
Hentzau. That will serve, and it will cut this 
net of Sapt’s from about my limbs.’’ 

He spoke firmly and coldly, so that when I 
looked at him I was amazed to see how his lips 
twitched and that his forehead was moist with 
sweat. Then I understood what a sudden, swift, 
and fearful struggle he had suffered, and how the 
great temptation had wrung and tortured him 
before he, victorious, had set the thing behind 
him. I went to him and clasped his hand : this 
action of mine seemed to soften him. 

“ Sapt, Sapt, ’ ’ he said, “ you almost made a 
rogue of me ! ” 

Sapt did not respond to his gentler mood. He 
had been pacing angrily up and down the room. 
Now he stopped abruptly before Rudolf, and 
pointed with his finger at the Queen. 

“ I make a rogue of you ! ” he exclaimed. 
“ And what do you make of our Queen, whom 
we all serve ? What does this truth that you’ll 
tell make of her? Haven’t I heard how she 
greeted you before all Strelsau as her husband and 
her love ? Will they believe that she didn’t know 

her husband ? Aye, you may show yourself, 

350 


OUR LOVE AND HER HONOUR! 


you may say they didn’t know you. Will they 
believe she didn’t ? W as the King’s ring on your 
finger? Where is it? And how comes Mr. 
Rassendyll to be at Fritz von Tarlenheim’s for 
hours with the Queen, when the King is at his 
hunting-lodge ? A king has died already, and 
two men besides, to save a word against her. 
And you — you’ll be the man to set every tongue 
in Strelsau talking, and every finger pointing in 
suspicion at her ! ” 

Rudolf made no answer. When Sapt had 
first uttered the Queen’s name, he had drawn 
near and let his hand fall over the back of her 
chair. She put hers up to meet it, and so they 
remained. But I saw that Rudolf’s face had 
gone very pale. 

“ And we, your friends ? ” pursued Sapt. “ For 
we’ve stood by you as we’ve stood by the 
Queen, by God we have : Fritz and young Ber- 
nenstein here, and I. If this truth’s told, who’ll 
beheve that we were loyal to the King, that we 
didn’t know, that we weren’t accomplices in the 
tricking of the King — maybe in his murder? 
Ah, Rudolf Rassendyll, God preserve me from a 
conscience that won’t let me be true to the 
woman I love or to the friends who love me ! ” 

I had never seen the old fellow so moved ; he 
carried me with him, as he carried Bernenstein. 

I know now that we were too ready to be con- 

351 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


vinced ; rather that, borne along by our passion- 
ate desire, we needed no convincing at all. His 
excited appeal seemed to us an argument. At 
least the danger to the Queen on which he dwelt 
was real and true and great. 

Then a sudden change came over him. He 
caught Rudolfs hand and spoke to him again in 
a low broken voice, an unwonted softness trans- 
forming his harsh tones. 

“ Lad,” he said, “ don’t say ‘ No ! ’ Here’s the 
finest lady alive sick for her lover, and the fin- 
est country in the world sick for its true king, 
and the best friends — aye, by Heaven, the best 
friends — man ever had, sick to call you master. 
I know nothing about your conscience, but this 
I know : the King’s dead, and the place is empty ; 
and I don’t see what Almighty God sent you 
here for unless it was to fill it. Come, lad — for 
our love and her honour ! While he was alive 
I’d have killed you sooner than let you take it. 
He’s dead. Now — for our love and her honour, 
lad ! ” 

I do not know what thoughts passed in Mr. 
Rassendyll’s mind. His face was set and rigid. 
He made no sign when Sapt finished, but stood 
as he was, motionless, for a long while. Then 
he slowly bent his head and looked down into 
the Queen’s eyes. For a while she sat looking 

back into his. Then carried away by the wild 

352 


OUR LOVE AND HER HONOUR! 


hope of immediate joy, and by her love for him, 
and her pride in the place he was offered, she 
sprang up and threw herself at his feet, crying : 

“Yes, yes! For my sake, Rudolf — for my 
sake ! ” 

“ Are you too against me, my Queen ? ” he 
murmured, caressing her ruddy hair. 


353 


CHAPTER XX 


THE DECISION OF HEAVEN 

We were half mad that night, Sapt and Ber- 
nenstein and I. The thing seemed to have got 
into onr blood and to have become part of our- 
selves. For us it was inevitable — nay, it was 
done. Sapt busied himself in preparing the ac- 
count of the fire at the hunting-lodge ; it was to 
be communicated to the journals, and it told 
with much circumstantiality how Rudolf Rassen- 
dyll had come to visit the King, with James his 
servant, and, the King being summoned unex- 
pectedly to the capital, had been awaiting His 
Majesty’s return when he met his fate. There 
was a short history of Rudolf, a glancing refer- 
ence to his family, a dignified expression of con- 
dolence with his relatives, to whom the King w T as 
sending messages of deepest regret by the hands 
of Mr. Rassendyll’s servant. At another table 
young Bernenstein was drawing up, under the 
Constable’s direction, a narrative of Rupert of 
Hentzau’s attempt on the King’s life and the 
King’s courage in defending himself. The Count, 
eager to return (so it ran), had persuaded the 

King to meet him by declaring that he held a 

354 


THE DECISION OF HEAVEN 

State document of great importance and of a 
most secret nature ; the King, with his habitual 
fearlessness, had gone alone, but only to refuse 
with scorn Count Rupert’s terms. Enraged at this 
unfavourable reception, the audacious criminal 
had made a sudden attack on the King, with what 
issue all knew. He had met his own death, while 
the King, perceiving from a glance at the docu- 
ment that it compromised well-known persons, 
had, with the nobility which marked him, destroyed 
it unread before the eyes of those who were 
rushing in to his rescue. I supplied suggestions 
and improvements ; and, engrossed in contriving 
how to blind curious eyes, we forgot the real and 
permanent difficulties of the thing we had re- 
solved upon. For us they did not exist: Sapt 
met every objection by declaring that the thing 
had been done once and could be done again. 
Bernenstein and I were not behind him in confi- 
dence. We would guard the secret with brain 
and hand and life, even as we had guarded and 
kept the secret of the Queen’s letter, which would 
now go with Rupert of Hentzau to his grave. 
Bauer we could catch and silence : nay, who 
would listen to such a tale from such a man? 
Rischenheim was ours; the old woman would 
keep her doubts between her teeth for her own 
sake. To his own land and his own people Ru- 
dolf must be dead, while the King of Ruritania 

355 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


would stand before all Europe, recognised, un- 
questioned, unassailed. True, he must marry the 
Queen again; Sapt was ready with the means, 
and would hear nothing of the difficulty and risk 
in finding a hand to perform the necessary cere- 
mony. If we quailed in our courage, we had but 
to look at the alternative, and find recompense 
for the perils of what we meant to undertake by 
a consideration of the desperate risk involved in 
abandoning it. Persuaded that the substitution 
of Rudolf for the King was the only thing which 
would serve our turn, we asked no longer whether 
it were possible, but sought only the means to 
make it safe and yet more safe. 

But Rudolf himself had not spoken. Sapt’s 
appeal and the Queens imploring cry had shaken 
but not overcome him ; he had wavered, but he 
was not won. Yet there was no talk of impossi- 
bility or peril in his mouth, any more than in 
ours : those were not what gave him pause. The 
score on which he hesitated was whether the thing 
should be done, not whether it could ; our appeals 
were not to brace a failing courage, but to cajole 
a sturdy sense of honour which found the impos- 
ture distasteful so soon as it seemed to serve a 
personal end. To save the King he had played 
the King in old days, but he did not love to play 
the King when the profit of it was to be his own. 

Hence he was unmoved till his care for the fair 

356 


THE DECISION OF HEAVEN 


fame of the Queen and the love of his friends 
joined to buffet his resolution. Then he faltered ; 
but he had not fallen. Yet Colonel Sapt did all 
as though he had given his assent, and watched 
the last hours in which his flight from Strelsau was 
possible go quickly by with more than equanimity. 
Why hurry Rudolf’s resolve ? Every moment 
shut him closer in the trap of an inevitable choice. 
With every hour that he was called the King, it 
became more impossible for him to bear any other 
name all his days. Therefore Sapt let Mr. Ras- 
sendyll doubt and struggle, while he himself wrote 
his story and laid his long-headed plans. And 
now and then James the little servant came in 
and went out, sedate and smug, but with a quiet 
satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. He had made 
a story for a pastime, and it was being translated 
into history. He at least would bear his part in 
it unflinchingly. 

Before now the Queen had left us, persuaded 
to lie down and try to rest till the matter should 
be settled. Stilled by Rudolf’s gentle rebuke, 
she had urged him no more in words, but there 
was an entreaty in her eyes stronger than any 
spoken prayer, and a piteousness in the lingering 
of her hand in his harder to resist than ten thou- 
sand sad petitions. At last he had led her from 
the room and commended her to Helga’s care. 

Then, returning to us, he stood silent a little 

357 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


while. We also were silent, Sapt sitting and 
looking up at him with his brows knit and 
his teeth restlessly chewing the moustache on 
his lip. 

“Well, lad?” he said at last, briefly putting 
the great question. 

Rudolf walked to the window and seemed to 
lose himself for a moment in the contemplation 
of the quiet night. There were no more than a 
few stragglers in the street now ; the moon shone 
white and clear on the empty Square. 

“ I should like to walk up and down outside 
and think it over,” he said, turning to us ; and, 
as Bernenstein sprang up to accompany him, he 
added, “No. Alone.” 

“ Yes, do,” said old Sapt, with a glance at the 
clock, whose hands were now hard on two o’clock. 
“ Take your time, lad, take your time.” 

Rudolf looked at him and broke into a smile. 

“ I’m not your dupe, old Sapt,” said he, shak- 
ing his head. “ Trust me, if I decide to get 
away, I’ll get away, be it what o’clock it will.” 

“ Yes, confound you ! ” grinned Colonel Sapt. 

So he left us, and then came that long time of 
scheming and planning and most persistent eye- 
shutting, in which occupations an hour wore its 
life away. Rudolf had not passed out of the 
porch, and we supposed that he had betaken him- 
self to the gardens, there to fight his battle. Old 

358 


THE DECISION OF HEAVEN 


Sapt, having done his work, suddenly turned 
talkative. 

“ That moon there,” he said, pointing his square 
thick forefinger at the window, “ is a mighty un- 
trustworthy lady. I’ve known her wake a vil- 
lain’s conscience before now.” 

“I’ve known her send a lover’s to sleep,” 
laughed young Bernenstein, rising from his table, 
stretching himself, and lighting a cigar. 

“ Aye, she’s apt to take a man out of what he 
is,” pursued old Sapt. “ Set a quiet man near 
her, and he dreams of battle ; an ambitious fel- 
low, after ten minutes of her, will ask nothing 
better than to muse all his life away. I don’t 
trust her, Fritz ; I wish the night were dark.” 

“ What will she do to Rudolf Rassendyll ? ” I 
asked, falling in with the old fellow’s whimsical 
mood. 

“ He will see the Queen’s face in hers,” cried 
Bernenstein. 

“ He may see God’s,” said Sapt ; and he shook 
himself as though an unwelcome thought had 
found its way to his mind and lips. 

A pause fell on us, born of the Colonel’s last 
remark. W e looked one another in the face. At 
last Sapt brought his hand down on the table with 
a bang. 

“ I’ll not go back ! ” he said sullenly, almost 
fiercely. 


359 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ Nor I,” said Bernenstein, drawing himself 
up. “ Nor you, Tarlenheim ? ” 

“No, I also go on,” I answered. Then again 
there was a moment’s silence. 

“She may make a man soft as a sponge,” re- 
flected Sapt, starting again, “ or hard as a bar of 
steel. I should feel safer if the night were dark. 
I’ve looked at her often from my tent and from 
bare ground, and I know her. She got me a 
decoration, and once she came near to making 
me turn tail. Have nothing to do with her, 
young Bernenstein.” 

“ I’ll keep my eyes for beauties nearer at 
hand,” said Bernenstein, whose volatile temper 
soon threw off a serious mood. 

“ There’s a chance for you, now Rupert of 
Hentzau’s gone,” said Sapt grimly. 

As he spoke there was a knock at the door. 
When it opened, James entered. 

“ The Count of Luzau-Rischenheim begs to be 
allowed to speak with the King,” said James. 

“ We expect His Majesty every moment. Beg 
the Count to enter,” Sapt answered; and, when 
Rischenheim came in, he went on, motioning the 
Count to a chair : “ We are talking, my lord, of 
the influence of the moon on the careers of men.” 

“ What are you going to do ? What have you 
decided ? ” burst out Rischenheim impatiently. 

“ We decide nothing,” answered Sapt. 

360 


THE DECISION OF HEAVEN 


“ Then what has Mr. — what has the King 
decided ? ” 

“ The King decides nothing, my lord. She de- 
cides,” and the old fellow pointed again through 
the window towards the moon. “ At this mo- 
ment she makes or unmakes a king; but I can’t 
tell you which. What of your cousin ? ” 

‘‘You know that my cousin’s dead.” 

“ Yes, I know that. What of him, though ? ” 

“ Sir,” said Rischenheim with some dignity, 
“ since he is dead, let him rest in peace. It is 
not for us to judge him.” 

“ He may well wish it were. For, by heaven, 
I believe I should let the rogue off,” said Colonel 
Sapt, “ and I don’t think his Judge will.” 

“ God forgive him, I loved him,” said Rischen- 
heim. “ Yes, and many have loved him. His 
servants loved him, sir.” 

“ Friend Bauer, for example? ” 

“ Yes, Bauer loved him. Where is Bauer? ” 

“ I hope he is gone to hell with his loved 
master,” grunted Sapt, but he had the grace to 
lower his voice and shield his mouth with his 
hand, so that Rischenheim did not hear. 

“ We don’t know where he is,” I answered. 

“ I am come,” said Rischenheim, “to put my 
services in all respects at the Queen’s disposal.” 

“ And at the King’s ? ” asked Sapt. 

“ At the King’s ? But the King is dead.” 

361 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


“ Therefore 4 Long live the King ! ’ ” struck in 
young Bernenstein. 

“If there should be a King ” began Sapt. 

“ You’ll do that ? ” interrupted Rischenheim 
in breathless agitation. 

“ She is deciding,” said Colonel Sapt, and 
again he pointed to the moon. 

“But she’s a plaguy long time about it,” re- 
marked Lieutenant von Bernenstein. 

Rischenheim sat silent for a moment. His 
face was pale, and when he spoke his voice 
trembled. But his words were resolute enough. 

“ I gave my honour to the Queen, and even in 
that I will serve her if she commands me.” 

Bernenstein sprang forward and caught him 
by the hand. 

“ That’s what I like,” said he, “ and damn the 
moon, Colonel ! ” 

His sentence was hardly out of his mouth 
when the door opened, and to our astonishment 
the Queen entered. Helga was just behind ; 
her clasped hands and frightened eyes seemed to 
protest that their coming was against her will. 
The Queen was clad in a long white robe, and 
her hair hung on her shoulders, being but loosely 
bound with a riband. Her air showed great agi- 
tation, and without any greeting or notice of the 
rest she walked quickly across the room to me. 

“ The dream, Fritz ! ” she said. “ It has come 

362 


THE DECISION OF HEAVEN 


again. Helga persuaded me to lie down, and I 
was very tired, so at last I fell asleep. Then it 
came. I saw him, Fritz — I saw him as plainly 
as I see you. They all called him King, as they 
did to-day; but they did not cheer. They were 
quiet, and looked at him with sad faces. I could 
not hear what they said ; they spoke in hushed 
voices. I heard nothing more than ‘ The King, 
the King,’ and he seemed to hear not even that. 
He lay still ; he was lying on something, some- 
thing covered with hanging stuff, I couldn’t see 
what it was; yes, quite still. His face was so 
pale, and he didn’t hear them say ‘ The King.’ 
Fritz, Fritz, he looked as if he were dead ! 
Where is he? Where have you let him go ? ” 

She turned from me and her eyes flashed over 
the rest. 

“ Where is he ? Why aren’t you with him ? ” 
she demanded, with a sudden change of tone. 
“ Why aren’t you round him? You should be 
between him and danger, ready to give your 
lives for his. Indeed, gentlemen, you take your 
duty lightly.” 

It might be that there was little reason in her 
words. There appeared to be no danger threat- 
ening him ; and after all he was not our King, 
much as we desired to make him such. Yet we 
did not think of any such matter. We were 

abashed before her reproof and took her indigna- 

363 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


tion as deserved. We hung our heads, and 
S apt’s shame betrayed itself in the dogged sullen- 
ness of his answer. 

“ He has chosen to go walking, madame, and 
to go alone. He ordered us — I say, he ordered us 
not to come. Surely we are right to obey him? ” 

The sarcastic inflection of his voice conveyed 
his opinion of the Queen’s extravagance. 

“Obey him? Yes. You couldn’t go with 
him if he forbade you. But you should follow 
him, you should keep him in sight.” 

This much she spoke in proud tones and with 
a disdainful manner, but then came a sudden re- 
turn to her former bearing. She held out her 
hands towards me, wailing: 

“Fritz, where is he? Is he safe? Find him 
for me, Fritz, find him.” 

“ I’ll find him for you if he’s above ground, 
madame,” I cried, for her appeal touched me to 
the heart. 

“ He’s no farther off than the gardens,” grum- 
bled old Sapt, still resentful of the Queen’s re- 
proof and scornful of the woman’s agitation. He 
was also out of temper with Rudolf himself, be- 
cause the moon took so long in deciding whether 
she would make or unmake a king. 

“ The gardens ! ” she cried. “ Then let us look 
for him. Oh, you’ve let him walk in the gardens 
alone ? ” 


364 


THE DECISION OF HEAVEN 

“ What should harm the fellow ? ” muttered 
Sapt. 

She did not hear him, for she had swept out of 
the room. Helga went with her, and we all fol- 
lowed, Sapt behind the rest of us, still very surly. 
I heard him grumbling away as we ran down- 
stairs and, having passed along the great corridor, 
came to the small saloon that opened on the 
gardens. There were no servants about, but we 
encountered a night-watchman, and Bernenstein 
snatched the lantern from the astonished man’s 
hand. 

Save for the dim light thus furnished, the room 
was dark. But outside the windows the moon 
streamed brightly down on the broad gravel walk, 
on the formal flower-beds, and the great trees in 
the gardens. The Queen made straight for the 
window. I followed her, and, having flung the 
window open, stood by her. The air was sweet, 
and the breeze struck with grateful coolness on 
my face. I saw that Sapt had come near and 
stood on the other side of the Queen. My wife 
and the rest were behind, looking out where our 
shoulders left space. 

There, in the bright moonlight, on the far side 
of the broad terrace, close by the line of tall trees 
that fringed its edge, we saw Rudolf Rassendyll 
pacing slowly up and down, with his hands be- 
hind his back and his eyes fixed on the arbiter of 
24 365 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


his fate, on her who was to make him a king or 
send him a fugitive from Strelsau. 

“ There he is, madame,” said Sapt. “ Safe 
enough ! ” 

The Queen did not answer. Sapt said no 
more, and of the rest of us none spoke. We 
stood watching him as he struggled with his great 
issue: a greater surely has seldom fallen to the 
lot of any man born in a private station. Yet I 
could read little of it on the face that the rays of 
white light displayed so clearly, although they 
turned his healthy tints to a dull grey, and gave 
unnatural sharpness to his features against the 
deep background of black foliage. 

I heard the Queen’s quick breathing, but there 
was scarcely another sound. I saw her clutch 
her gown and pull it away a little from her 
throat; save for that, none in the group moved. 
The lantern’s light was too dim to force notice 
from Mr. Rassendyll. Unconscious of our pres- 
ence, he wrestled with fate that night in the 
gardens. 

Suddenly the faintest exclamation came from 
Sapt. He put his hand back and beckoned to 
Bernenstein. The young man handed his lantern 
to the Constable, who set it close to the side of 
the window-frame. The Queen, absolutely en- 
grossed in her lover, saw nothing, but I perceived 

what had caught Sapt’s attention. There were 

366 


THE DECISION OF HEAVEN 


scores on the paint and indentations in the wood, 
just at the edge of the panel and near the lock. 
I glanced at Sapt, who nodded his head. It 
looked very much as though somebody had tried 
to force the door that night, employing a knife, 
which had dented the woodwork and scratched 
the paint. The least thing was enough to alarm 
us, standing where we stood, and the Constable’s 
face was full of suspicion. Who had sought an 
entrance ? It could be no trained and practised 
housebreaker : he would have had better tools. 

But now our attention was again diverted. 
Rudolf stopped short. He still looked for a mo- 
ment at the sky, then his glance dropped to the 
ground at his feet. A second later he jerked his 
head — it was bare, and I saw the dark-red hair 
stir with the movement — like a man who has 
settled something which caused him a puzzle. 
In an instant we knew, by the quick intuition of 
contagious emotion, that the question had found 
its answer. He was by now King or a fugitive. 
The Lady of the Skies had given her decision. 
The thrill ran through us : I felt the Queen draw 
herself together at my side; I felt the muscles 
of Rischenheim’s arm which rested against my 
shoulder grow rigid and taut. Sapt’s face was 
full of eagerness and he gnawed his moustache 
savagely. We gathered closer to one another. 

At last we could bear the suspense no longer. 

367 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


With one look at the Queen and another at me, 
Sapt stepped on to the gravel. He would go 
and learn the answer : thus the unendurable 
strain that had stretched us like tortured men on 
a rack would be relieved. The Queen did not 
answer his glance, nor even seem to see that he 
had moved. Her eyes were still all for Mr. Ras- 
sendyll, her thoughts buried in his ; for her happi- 
ness was in his hands and lay poised on the issue 
of that decision whose momentousness held him 
for a moment motionless on the path. Often I 
seem to see him as he stood there, tall, straight, 
and stately, the King a man’s fancy paints when 
he reads of great monarchs who flourished long 
ago in the springtime of the world. 

S apt’s step crunched on the gravel. Rudolf 
heard it and turned his head. He saw Sapt, and 
he saw me also behind Sapt. He smiled com- 
posedly and brightly, but he did not move from 
where he was. He held out both hands towards 
the Constable and caught him in their double 
grasp, still smiling down in his face. I was no 
nearer to reading his decision, though I saw that 
he had reached a resolution that was immovable 
and gave peace to his soul. If he meant to go 
on he would go on now, go on to the end, with- 
out a backward look or a falter of his foot ; if he 
had chosen the other way, he would depart with- 
out a murmur or a hesitation. The Queen’s 

368 


THE DECISION OF HEAVEN 


quick breathing had ceased, she seemed like a 
statue ; but Rischenheim moved impatiently, as 
though he could no longer endure the waiting. 

Sapt’s voice came harsh and grating. 

“Well?” he cried. “Which is it to be? 
Backward or forward ? ” 

Rudolf pressed his hands and looked into his 
eyes. The answer asked but a word from him. 
The Queen caught my arm ; her rigid limbs 
seemed to give way, and she would have fallen 
if I had not supported her. At the same instant 
a man sprang out of the dark line of tall trees, 
directly behind Mr. Rassendyll. Bernenstein 
uttered a loud startled cry, and rushed forward, 
pushing the Queen herself violently out of his 
path. His hand flew to his side, and he ripped 
the heavy cavalry sword that belonged to his 
uniform of the Cuirassiers of the Guard from its 
sheath. I saw it flash in the moonlight, but its 
flash was quenched in a brighter short blaze. A 
shot rang out through the quiet gardens. Mr. 
Rassendyll did not loose his hold of Sapt’s 
hands, but he sank slowly on to his knees. 
Sapt seemed paralysed. Again Bernenstein 
cried out. It was a name this time. 

“ Bauer ! By God, Bauer ! ” he cried. 

In an instant he was across the path and by 
the trees. The assassin fired again, but now he 

missed. We saw the great sword flash high 

369 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


above Bernenstein’s head and heard it whistle 
through the air. It crashed on the crown of 
Bauer’s head, and he fell like a log to the ground 
with his skull split. The Queen’s hold on me 
relaxed ; she sank into Rischenheim’s arms. I 
ran forward and knelt by Mr. Rassendyll. He 
still held Sapt’s hands, and by their help buoyed 
himself up. But when he saw me he let go of 
them and sank back against me, his head resting 
on my chest. He moved his lips, but seemed 
unable to speak. He was shot through the 
back. Bauer had avenged the master whom he 
loved, and was gone to meet him. 

There was a sudden stir from inside the 
palace. Shutters were flung back and windows 
thrown open. The group we made stood clean- 
cut, plainly visible, in the moonlight. A mo- 
ment later there was a rush of eager feet, and we 
were surrounded by officers and servants. Bern- 
enstein stood by me now, leaning on his sword : 
Sapt had not uttered a word; his face was dis- 
torted with horror and bitterness. Rudolf’s eyes 
were closed and his head lay back against me. 

“ A man has shot the King,” said I in bald 
stupid explanation. 

All at once I found James, Mr. Rassendyll’s 
servant, by me. 

“ I have sent for doctors, my lord,” he said. 

“ Come, let us carry him in.” 

370 


THE DECISION OF HEAVEN 


He, Sapt, and I, lifted Rudolf and bore him 
across the gravel terrace and into the little 
saloon. We passed the Queen. She was lean- 
ing on Rischenheim’s arm and held my wife’s 
hand. We laid Rudolf down on a couch. 
Outside I heard Bernenstein say, “ Pick up 
that fellow and carry him somewhere out of 
sight.” Then he also came in, followed by a 
-crowd. He sent them all to the door, and we 
were left alone, waiting for the surgeon. The 
Queen came up, Rischenheim still supporting 
her. 

“ Rudolf, Rudolf! ” she whispered very softly. 

He opened his eyes, and his lips bent in a 
smile. She flung herself on her knees and kissed 
his hand passionately. 

“ The surgeon will be here directly,” said I. 

Rudolf’s eyes had been on the Queen. As I 
spoke he looked up at me, smiled again, and 
shook his head. I turned away. 

When the surgeon came Sapt and I assisted 
him in his examination. The Queen had been 
led away, and we were alone. The examination 
was very short. Then we carried Rudolf to a 
bed : the nearest chanced to be in Bernenstein ’s 
room ; there we laid him, and there all that 
could be done for him was done. All this time 
we had asked no questions of the surgeon, and 

he had given no information. We knew too 

371 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


well to ask : we had all seen men die before now, 
and the look on the face was familiar to us. 
Two or three more doctors, the most eminent in 
Strelsau, came now, having been hastily sum- 
moned. It was their right to be called ; but, 
for all the good they were, they might have 
been left to sleep the night out in their beds. 
They drew together in a little group at the end 
of the room and talked for a few minutes in low 
tones. James lifted his master’s head and gave 
him a drink of water. Rudolf swallowed it with 
difficulty. Then I saw him feebly press James’s 
hand, for the little man’s face was full of sorrow. 
As his master smiled the servant mustered a 
smile in answer. 

I crossed over to the doctors. 

“Well, gentlemen? ” I asked. 

They looked at one other, then the greatest of 
them said gravely : 

“The King may live an hour, Count Fritz. 
Should you not send for a priest? ” 

I went straight back to Rudolf Rassendyll. 
His eyes greeted me and questioned me. He 
was a man, and I played no silly tricks with him. 
I bent down and said : 

“ An hour, they think, Rudolf.” 

He made one restless movement, whether of 
pain or protest I do not know. Then he spoke, 

very low, slowly, and with difficulty. 

372 


THE DECISION OF HEAVEN 


“ Then they can go,” he said ; and when I 
spoke of a priest he shook his head. 

I went back to them and asked if anything 
more could be done. The answer was “ Noth- 
ing ” ; but I could not prevail further than to get 
all save one sent into an adjoining room ; he who 
remained seated himself at a table some way off. 
Rudolf’s eyes had closed again ; old Sapt, who 
had not once spoken since the shot was fired, 
raised a haggard face to mine. 

“ W e’d better fetch her to him,” he said 
hoarsely. I nodded my head. 

Sapt went while I stayed by him. Bernen- 
stein came to him, bent down and kissed his 
hand. The young fellow, who had borne himself 
with such reckless courage and dash throughout 
the affair, was quite unmanned now, and the 
tears were rolling down his face. I could have 
been much in the same plight, but I would not 
before Mr. Rassendyll. He smiled at Bernen- 
stein. Then he said to me : 

“Is she coming, Fritz ? ” 

“ Yes, she’s coming, sire,” I answered. 

He noticed the style of my address ; a faint 
amused gleam shot into his languid eyes. 

“ Well, for an hour, then,” he murmured, and 
lay back on his pillows. 

She came, dry-eyed, calm, and queenly. We 

all drew back, and she knelt down by his bed, 

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RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


holding his hand in her two hands. Presently the 
hand stirred ; she let it go ; then, knowing well 
what he wanted, she raised it herself and placed 
it on her head, while she bowed her face to the 
bed. His hand wandered for the last time over 
the gleaming hair that he loved so well. She 
rose, passed her arm about his shoulders ; and 
kissed his lips. Her face rested close to his, and 
he seemed to speak to her, but we could not have 
heard the words even if we would. So they re- 
mained for a long while. 

The doctor came and felt his pulse, retreating 
afterward with close-shut lips. We drew a little 
nearer, for we knew that he would not be long 
with us now. Suddenly strength seemed to 
come upon him. He raised himself in his bed, 
and spoke in distinct tones : 

“God has decided,” he said. “ I’ve tried to 
do the right thing through it all. Sapt, and 
Bernenstein, and you, old Fritz, shake my hand. 
No, don’t kiss it. We’ve done with pretence 
now.” 

We shook his hand as he bade us. Then he 
took the Queen’s hand. Again she knew his 
mind, and moved it to his lips. 

“ In life and in death, my sweet Queen,” he 
murmured. 

And thus he fell asleep. 


374 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE COMING OF THE DREAM 

There is little need, and I have little heart, to 
dwell on what followed the death of Mr. Rassen- 
dyll. The plans we had laid to secure his ten- 
ure of the throne, in case he had accepted it, 
served well in the event of his death. Bauer’s 
lips were for ever sealed ; the old woman was 
too scared and appalled to hint even to her gos- 
sips at the suspicions she entertained. Risch- 
enheim was loyal to the pledge he had given to 
the Queen. The ashes of the hunting-lodge held 
their secret fast, and none suspected when the 
charred body which was called Rudolf Rassen- 
dyll ’s was laid to quiet rest in the graveyard of 
the town of Zenda, hard by the tomb of Herbert 
the forester. For we had from the first rejected 
any idea of bringing the King’s body to Strelsau 
and setting it in the place of Mr. Rassendyll’s. 
The difficulties of such an undertaking were 
almost insuperable ; in our hearts we did not de- 
sire to conquer them. As a King Rudolf Ras- 
sendyll had died, as a King let him lie. As a 
King he lay in his palace at Strelsau, while the 

news of his murder at the hands of a confederate 

375 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


of Rupert of Hentzau went forth to startle and 
appal the world. At a mighty price our task had 
been made easy : many might have doubted the 
living, none questioned the dead ; suspicions 
which might have gathered round a throne died 
away at the gate of a vault. The King was dead. 
Who would ask if it were in truth the King who 
lay in state in the great hall of the palace, or 
whether the humble grave at Zenda held the 
bones of the last male Elphberg ? In the silence 
of the grave all murmurs and questionings were 
hushed. 

Throughout the day people had been passing 
and repassing through the great hall. There, on 
a stately bier, surmounted by a crown and the 
drooping folds of the royal banner, lay Rudolf 
Rassendyll. The highest officers guarded him ; 
in the Cathedral the Archbishop said a mass for 
his soul. He had lain there three days ; the 
evening of the third had come, and early on the 
morrow he was to be buried. There is a little 
gallery in the hall, that looks down on the spot 
where the bier stood ; here was I on this evening, 
and with me Queen Flavia. We were alone to- 
gether, and together we saw beneath us the calm 
face of the dead man. He was clad in the white 
uniform in which he had been crowned ; the riband 
of the Red Rose was across his breast. His hand 

held a true red rose, fresh and fragrant; Flavia her- 

376 


THE COMING OF THE DREAM 


self had set it there, that even in death he might 
not miss the chosen token of her love. I had 
not spoken to her, nor she to me, since we came 
there. We watched the pomp round him, and 
the rows of people that came to bring a wreath 
for him or to look upon his face. I saw a girl 
come and kneel long at the bier’s foot. She rose 
and went away sobbing, leaving a little circlet of 
flowers. It was Rosa Holf. I saw women come 
and go weeping, and men bite their lips as they 
passed by. Rischenheim came, pale-faced and 
troubled ; and while all came and went, there, 
immovable, with drawn sword, in military stiff- 
ness, old Sapt stood at the head of the bier, his 
eyes set steadily in front of him, and his body 
never stirring from hour to hour through the 
long day. 

A distant faint hum of voices reached us. The 
Queen laid her hand on my arm. 

“ It is the dream, Fritz,” she said. “ Hark ! 
They speak of the King ; they speak in low 
voices and with grief, but they call him King. 
It’s what I saw in the dream. But he does not 
hear nor heed. No, he can’t hear nor heed even 
when I call him my King.” 

A sudden impulse came on me, and I turned 
to her, asking : 

“ What had he decided, madame ? Would he 
have been King ? ” 


377 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


She started a little. 

44 He didn’t tell me,” she answered, 44 and I 
didn’t think of it while he spoke to me. 

44 Of what then did he speak, madame ? ” 

“ Only of his love — of nothing but his love, 
Fritz,” she answered. 

W ell, I take it that when a man comes to die, 
love is more to him than a kingdom : it may be, 
if we could see truly, that it is more to him even 
while he lives. 

“ Of nothing but his great love for me, Fritz,” 
she said again. 44 And my love brought him to 
his death.” 

44 He wouldn’t have had it otherwise,” said I. 

44 No,” she whispered; and she leant over the 
parapet of the gallery, stretching out her arms to 
him. But he lay still and quiet, not hearing and 
not heeding when she murmured, 4 4 My King ! 
my King 1 ” It was even as it had been in the 
dream. 

That night James, the servant, took leave of 
his dead master and of us. He carried to Eng- 
land by word of mouth — for we dared write 
nothing down — the truth concerning the King 
of Ruritania and Mr. Rassendyll. It was to be 
told to the Earl of Burlesdon, Rudolf s brother, 
under a pledge of secrecy ; and to this day the 

Earl is the only man besides ourselves who knows 

378 


THE COMING OF THE DREAM 


the story. His errand done, James returned in 
order to enter the Queen’s service, in which he 
still is; and he told us that when Lord Burles- 
don had heard the story he sat silent for a great 
while, and then said : 

“ He did well. Some day I will visit his grave. 
Tell Her Majesty that there is still a Rassendyll, 
if she has need of one.” 

The offer was such as should come from a man 
of Rudolf’s name, yet I trust that the Queen 
needs no further service than such as it is our 
humble duty and dear delight to render her. It 
is our part to strive to lighten the burden that 
she bears, and by our love to assuage her undying 
grief. For she reigns now in Ruritania alone, 
the last of all the Elphbergs ; and her only joy is 
to talk of Mr. Rassendyll with those few who 
knew him, her only hope that she may some day 
be with him again. 

In great pomp we laid him to his rest in the 
vault of the Kings of Ruritania in the Cathedral 
of Strelsau. There he lies among the Princes of 
the House of Elphberg. I think that if there be 
indeed any consciousness among the dead, or any 
knowledge of what passes in the world they have 
left, they should be proud to call him brother. 
There rises in memory, of him a stately monu- 
ment, and people point it out to one another as 

379 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU 


the memorial of King Rudolf. I go often to the 
spot, and recall in thought all that passed when 
he came the first time to Zenda, and again on 
his second coming. For I mourn him as a man 
mourns a trusted leader and a loved comrade, 
and I should have asked no better than to be 
allowed to serve him all my days. Yet I serve 
the Queen, and in that I do most truly serve her 
lover. 

Times change for all of us. The roaring flood 
of youth goes by, and the stream of life sinks to 
a quiet flow. Sapt is an old man now ; soon my 
sons will be grown up, men enough themselves 
to serve Queen Fla via. Yet the memory of 
Rudolf Rassendyll is fresh to me as on the day 
he died, and the vision of the death of Rupert of 
Hentzau dances often before my eyes. It may 
be that some day the whole story shall be told, 
and men shall judge of it for themselves. To 
me it seems now as though all had ended well. 
I must not be misunderstood : my heart is still 
sore for the loss of him. But we saved the 
Queen’s fair fame, and to Rudolf himself the 
fatal stroke came as a relief from a choice too 
difficult : on the one side lay what impaired his 
own honour, on the other what threatened hers. 
As I think on this my anger at his death is less, 

though my grief cannot be. To this day I know 

380 


THE COMING OF THE DREAM 


not how he chose ; no, and 1 don’t know how he 
should have chosen. Yet he had chosen, for his 
face was calm and clear. 

Come, I have thought so much of him that 
I will go now and stand before his monument, 
taking with me my last-born son, a little lad of 
ten. He is not too young to desire to serve the 
Queen, and not too young to learn to love and 
reverence him who sleeps there in the vault and 
was in his life the noblest gentleman I have 
known. 

I will take the boy with me and tell him what 
I may of brave King Rudolf, how he fought and 
how he loved, and how he held the Queen’s 
honour and his own above all things in this world. 
The boy is not too young to learn such lessons 
from the life of Mr. Rassendyll. And while we 
stand there I will turn again into his native 
tongue — for, alas, the young rogue loves his toy 
soldiers better than his Latin ! — the inscription 
that the Queen wrote with her own hand, direct- 
ing that it should be inscribed in that stately 
tongue over the tomb in which her life lies 
buried : “ To Rudolf, who reigned lately in this 
city, and reigns for ever in her heart. — Queen 
Fla vi a. ” 

I told him the meaning, and he spelt the big 

words over in his childish voice ; at first he 

381 


25 


RUPERT OF HENTZAU < & 

stumbled, but the second time he had it right, 
and recited with a little touch of awe in his fresh 
young tones : 

Rudolfo 

Qui in hac civitate nuper regnavit 
In corde ipsius in aeternum regnat 

Flavia Regina. 

I felt his hand tremble in mine, and he looked 
up in my face. 

“ God save the Queen, father,” said he. 


THE END. 
























